


FastForward

by spaycesickle



Category: Naruto
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Canon Divergence, Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-30 21:10:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3951895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaycesickle/pseuds/spaycesickle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fluke. What you do in life echoes for eternity. Time Travel. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flash

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I basically started with the intention of finishing during NaNoWriMo 2010. Unfortunately, I didn’t “win” NaNo, nor did I finish the story… and I took a 5 year hiatus between the time I wrote this and today, when I’m finally posting it. But I have the most comprehensive plan I’ve made to date in a fanfic, and a lot of enthusiasm left for this, despite my not so good relationship with the manga. So I’ll just get on with it. I’ll post everything I’ve written so far quite regularly, and hopefully that will be enough to get me inspired enough to finish! I have 12 chapters of 22 finished at this point, btw. 
> 
> Many thanks to Nemrut, Kyurin, and Lecos, for keeping me on the right track. This wouldn’t have been able to get far without your input. 
> 
> WARNINGS: this fic is majorly AU, it will include screwing about with the Naruto timeline and character histories, as well as contain spoilers for the latest Anime/Manga. Rated T for violence, suggestive themes, and infrequent use of strong language. Heads up: I’m going to be picking and choosing what concepts of the manga I am choosing to incorporate after around about the end of the Invasion of Pein. 
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: ‘Naruto’ is the property of Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Viz Media, TV Tokyo, and other associated parties. I claim no ownership of the franchise, characters or settings, nor am I affiliated with the above parties in any way. The following is a fan-work, written for my amusement, and not for material or monetary gain. Please support the official releases. (I don’t own this).

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**Fastforward**  
 **Chapter 1: Flash**  
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What you do in life echoes for eternity.  
– Gladiator

 

† † †.  
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“Don’t blink- not even for a second,” the dark-haired Leaf Jounin growled at his three comrades. Namikaze Minato’s kunai had been launched at the fifty-strong Iwa opposition, three-pronged and whistling through the air. “Now we get to see the Yellow Flash of Konoha fight!”

 

† † †

 

A mixed platoon of fifty Chunin and Jounin was not one to be taken lightly. They had seen him, and while some of them had frozen, their lives flashing before their eyes before their throats were slit, a few of them hadn’t. The Yellow Flash was scum- a plague, a monster that only war could create. Hiraishin was a Jutsu that haunted the darkest dreams of shinobi on the Iwa line; Minato Namikaze the only ninja in the war who had had the “flee on sight” order placed on his head.

 

It happened in an instant.

 

Minato flickered from existence; shouts rose, arching off into a bloody gurgle as crimson and sweat and spittle and fear dripped and bodies thudded to the floor. There was one shinobi left- a Jounin, if Minato was identifying him correctly from the last time he’d scanned through his bingo book. His eyes were wide, his fingers phasing through hand-seals, chakra rising around him in a perimeter of some sort, and one of Minato’s kunai sitting buried a few feet behind him within the affected chakra-encircled area.

 

Minato flickered; a fist clenched around a kunai shot forward, ready to bury itself in the Iwa ninja’s skull. He frowned as he felt the slightest resistance slowing him, pulling on edges of his consciousness as he travelled, and resisting against the sudden, foreign pull he pushed forward-

 

A blinding flash lit up the surroundings.

 

The last of the Iwa Jounin dropped to the floor, dead. The kunai buried behind him disintegrated with a small hiss as the chakra perimeter dissipated.

 

The four remaining Konoha shinobi surveyed the sudden empty battlefield.

 

“W-Where’d he go?”

 

† † †

 

Obito was dead. Crushed under a rock and having surrendered his remaining eye, Obito was dead.

 

But the fight wasn’t over.

 

“Rin, I’ll handle these guys,” Kakashi spoke quietly, eyeing the Iwa nin that were creeping up the earthy mound. He pulled out the kunai his Sensei had given to him. “While I’m doing that, you escape.”

 

“But-”

 

“I’ll look after you for Obito,” Kakashi hissed, his voice getting stronger. “Because of that, I’ll protect you- even if I die-”

 

“Kakashi!”

 

“Rin. Obito liked you- loved you. You were important to him. Because of that I’ll protect you through life and death.” He heard the girl’s breathing quicken behind him.

 

“Then Kakashi- my feelings-”

 

“I- I was once... the kind of trash that would abandon you,” Kakashi said, turning away.

 

The Iwa nin leapt forward.

 

“Go Rin- now!”

 

“But-”

 

“Now!”

 

And with a choked breath, she fled.

 

The sound of a thousand birds spluttered out somewhere behind her.

 

† † †

 

The mission to destroy Kannabi bridge had long since passed as a failure, Iwa keeping possession of it leading them to have an advantage in territorial battles. Kushina had stood at the village gates long after Konoha’s Yellow Flash had been declared “Missing in Action” and the sole female Chunin of the team had stumbled back broken. She had watched as men, women and children had returned from mission after mission, bruised and bloody, and often in body bags. Kushina had watched as the war had worn on with no end in sight, watched as life after life was extinguished and the Leaf was pushed further and further into submission.

 

Through her eyes she saw as the Leaf was finally forced into an uneasy stalemate, the village becoming a shell of its former self, and as the Sandaime had stepped down from office to appoint a new Hokage...

 

The village had slowly begun on its return to normalcy.

 

† † †

 

Much like a certain acquaintance of hers had taken to frequenting a certain cenotaph, Kushina had a place that she’d visit more than was strictly necessary. It was a habit she’d fallen into over the thirteen months after Minato’s disappearance- he wasn’t dead. Where he was she had no idea, but while she’d never actually let him know; Kushina had faith in his abilities. He’d return one day, she was sure of it. And when he did... oh, her fist would be ready to leave him with a bruise or three for leaving her so worried.

 

For leaving her alone.

 

Glancing through the gates to see no-one there but the two guarding Chunin, Kushina’s hand rested on her stomach. A bittersweet smile fleetingly passed over her face as she continued on her way. No, Minato hadn’t left her alone. She supposed she’d never be alone, what with such a monstrosity sealed inside of her. Not that Minato even knew about that. She hadn’t really got round to telling him yet. Her eyes glanced over Konoha’s walls.

 

They had been all but been destroyed in the war as Iwa had closed in. They had been quickly rebuilt and refortified with wood, bricks and seals when the war was finally drawn into a bloody stalemate and Jiraiya had made one of his near extinct trips to Konoha to lend a stiff hand. Once again, the entry points to the village became limited and safe. The north-west gate faced Iwa almost directly, and if Kushina diverted her path home every night just to walk by it to see if anyone unusual was waiting there... The gate guards were wise to the rumours of the Red Hot-Blooded Habanero to comment otherwise.

 

Kushina reached her house with little hassle, the door swinging open with a soft swoosh as the darkness greeted her. She ghosted through the hall, depositing a small bag of fruit on the kitchen counter, before heading up to her bedroom and shrugging off her orange jacket and kunai pouch, letting them drop to the floor.

 

Framed pictures welcomed her home. Her own team, in happier days- she spared that one a cursory glance before her eyes roved over the second one. Team Minato’s and her own smiling face beamed back at her. Her hand reached out for the photo with a tremble. Three of her boys out to war, and not one returned. Her fingers traced over the lines of his face.

 

Where are you, Minato?

 

Death she could deal with- she’d have to. Vanishing without a trace, on the other hand, left no room for closure. Iwa had crowed, as they tended to do, but never produced a body. That was enough proof that they weren’t responsible, no matter what they had said. Humiliating him in death would have been at the top of their list had they actually done the deed. Minato wouldn’t just abandon them. Yet he was just gone. Growling, she flipped the photo face down and set it back on the dressing table. She glanced pointedly in the other direction for a full minute, before her eyes drifted back to the upturned photograph. The back of the frame was sticking up and she sighed, righting it once again.

 

She was tired, but tomorrow would be another day.

 

Fumbling in the darkness to retrieve her jacket, Kushina didn’t notice the hooded head phase through the wall behind her, followed swiftly by a torso, arms and legs.

 

By the time she registered the metallic chink of a kunai sliding loose, the figure had crossed the room and grabbed a fistful of her plentiful hair, jerking her back. She gasped, trying to twist her way out of the grip, her elbows coming back but passing through a body that was there but not, leaving no trace. An arm from nothingness stole across her torso holding her still. His arm- she could feel the weight of his arm! Her nails, her only weapon, tore into the flesh that had revealed itself as she struggled.

 

A hiss.

 

A kunai slashed her throat, stopping any attempt to shout as blood gurgled from the wound and Kushina choked. The stranger let her go and she dropped like a stone.

 

It was healing her, knitting the skin back together, replenishing the blood-loss that was-

 

The masked man’s fingers glowed bright, then brighter, before he crouched over her and plunged them into her stomach once- the healing stopped and agony ripped through her body as the connection was severed- and again, and her stomach shredded, the chakra, red, dark and evil chakra seeping up like blood polluting water.

 

“No.” She couldn’t allow this to happen- she couldn’t allow this to happen-

 

Golden chains streamed forth to try and restrain the chakra before it fully pooled, but the man was having none of it.

 

A heavy boot came crashing down on her face and a red eye glinted from above as her own eyes rolled back in her head. Minato’s smile was glassy as it beamed down at her from the photo-frame. The glass shattered and the chains shimmered out from existence.

 

† † †

 

Throughout his shinobi career, Minato had had more than a few attempts on his life. The closest that came to this particular experience was almost being drowned while on a B-rank mission in his youth. Minato could remember the hands round his throat as the air was cut off, a Jutsu immobilising his legs, his weight pulling him down; darkness poisoning his vision and silence assaulting his eardrums. Had it not been for his Sensei, he would not have made it out of that one altercation. He was thankful- drowning was not a way he’d like to go.

 

This was somewhat similar, but in reverse. He had resisted the earlier pull, heard the crack and stumbled onto his knees as sound suddenly rang in his ears, and the air was stolen from his lungs. Light was blinding, his head was pounding and men and women were shouting. Minato filled his lungs, bolting to his feet to escape the forms swarming him from all sides. He heard jeering, and struggled to focus his vision, leaping back to put some distance between himself and the crowd.

 

His eyes caught on a hitai-ate.

 

Polished and gleaming.

 

Iwa.

 

Iwa ninja. Iwa ninja.

 

Everywhere.

 

Pushing towards him.

 

Rushing towards him.

 

Sound was hitting his ears in waves, his vision swam, and he struggled to stay on his feet. The jeers grew louder and the shapes more substantial, one raising an appendage to throw something. Instinct kicked in as he kicked back, a hand digging into the holster tied to his thigh to throw one of the remaining few tri-pronged kunai at the enemy. Then another, and another. Someone shrieked and Minato felt a shuriken leave a shallow cut in his cheek. Finding his feet yet again, he grit his teeth.

 

Minato flickered.

 

† † †

 

A group of five shinobi surveyed the unlikely battlefield. Bodies were strewn across the floor, civilians and shinobi alike, and blood had splattered and pooled in the grass. The Sandaime Tsuchikage kept his emotions closely controlled as he walked passed a severed arm.

 

When the Onoki of Both Scales had decided to accompany the annual parade while it went on a loop from Iwagakure to Kusagakure and back, he had not been expecting what he’d found. The event was one that had been running for years. It celebrated Iwa’s triumph over Konoha and the other shinobi nations, and was engineered to run specifically over a few of the more infamous old battlefields- most importantly, over Kannabi Bridge, which Iwa had protected fiercely as their main trade line, and a bigger battlefield a little deeper into Kusagakure, where the Yellow Pest had last been seen.

 

By all accounts, the parade had been a great success for the past seventeen years. It was accompanied by fanfare and the best entertainers Iwa could offer. Shinobi and civilians milled about, some taking time out of work or duties to follow its whole circuit, and the parade was then fondly recalled for a few weeks after it was done and dusted. It was a tradition. One that someone had decided to sully, and Onoki would track down the perpetrator, for no-one stomped on the pride of Iwagakure, the greatest of the shinobi nations. It was an insult to that pride that someone had managed to escape the Tsuchikage himself. They would be wise to enjoy every second of the freedom they had won themselves, for Onoki would be sure to let the fool suffer when he caught up with them.

 

Onoki had been berating a youngster when the commotion had started out. The brat had thought it funny to laugh at Onoki’s back pains where he thought the Tsuchikage couldn’t hear him. He’d been spending too much time with Kurotsuchi, no doubt, for she was the only one who mocked him in such a way. Kurotsuchi. His granddaughter.

 

He had seen her from the corner of his eye as the events unfolded. She had joined in with one of the annual events, heckling the supposed scheduled impersonator of the Yellow Flash before he took to the makeshift float to act out his defeat to some of Iwa’s finest. Her eyes had been twinkling, and she had been smiling indulgently at some of the more rowdy civilians throwing rotten fruit at the man. Nothing had been out of the ordinary, except, perhaps, that the man’s costume looked a lot less tacky this time around.

 

Onoki’s nostrils flared, the only indication that something was amiss. He’d had Kurotsuchi’s corpse removed from the premises already. She was but a newly promoted Chunin; this was not how she was meant to have died. There was no blaze of glory, no epic battle to the end. That’s the way she would have wanted it, if she’d wanted it at all. It had been quick; a kunai had been thrust into her chest by the intruder and she had bled out before medics could save her.

 

He doubted the girl had even seen the blow coming. Onoki’s own senses had barely caught onto what had been unfolding in front of him. As of yet, he wasn’t even sure if his eyes had been deceiving him.

 

Onoki has responded to the threat as promptly as a Kage could. He had confronted the intruder with Jinton before Kurotsuchi’s body had even begun toppling backwards. He had caught a flash of blue eyes, yellow hair, and a Leaf hitai-ate as the cubed technique began to cloud over. But the man had actually vanished from within its confines before the Jutsu had even finished in its execution. He’d never seen anything like it. If he hadn’t caught it with his own eyes... Onoki shook his head.

 

“Sir! We’ve found something!”

 

Walking over to one of the four ANBU who were with him, Onoki stared at the object nested in the centre of a small pothole to the right of the slaughter-ground.

 

A three-pronged kunai lay innocently winking back at him under the sun’s dying rays.

 

† † †


	2. Chapter 2: The Rabbit Hole

**Disclaimer:** _‘Naruto’ is the property of Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Viz Media, TV Tokyo, and other associated parties. I claim no ownership of the franchise, characters or settings, nor am I affiliated with the above parties in any way. The following is a fan-work, written for my amusement, and not for material or monetary gain. Please support the official releases. (I don’t own this)._

 

 

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**† † †**

 

**Fastforward**

**Chapter 2: The Rabbit Hole**

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_And yet to every bad there’s a worse._

\- Thomas Hardy

 

 

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Deep in the heart of Grass country, having scouted out the immediate area beforehand to the best of his ability in his current state, Minato shuddered, leaning against a broad tree trunk. His vision had yet to correct itself, the world had yet to stop spinning, and the light had yet to stop searing his retinas, but he had escaped. He had no idea what had gone wrong; the Flying Thunder God technique had never failed him in such a way. To have been forced off course so far, far enough that he couldn’t even sense nor transport to any of the fifty kunai that he’d had his comrades throw at the Iwa platoon, and then to be transported into the centre of another, thoroughly unprepared? No, that had never happened before.

 

His mind cast itself back to his last opponent. Brown hair, brown eyes, fingers flying through signs, and one of Minato’s kunai buried within the perimeter of whatever technique that man had been performing. It must have been some component of the Jounin’s technique, he decided. It wasn’t a Jutsu he could recall seeing before, it may even have been another Space/Time Jutsu; probably was, with how badly the Flying Thunder God had reacted to it. Not that he’d had a chance to see how two Space/Time techniques had fared against each other, before. He’d have to look into it later; this couldn’t be allowed to happen again. He’d never not been able to transport to a seal that had been in full working condition, and all of the kunai on that battlefield had filled that requirement. Yet even now, he couldn’t sense them.

 

His fingers gripped the last of the three-pronged kunai in his pouch, but it was no matter, he assured himself. The seals drawn into his kunai holster were a sure-fire way to make certain he was never without his kunai when he needed them. They lay nestled inside a non-space, ready for summoning.

 

Swiping his thumb on the tip of his kunai, his fingers brushed the edge of his holster, activating the seals. He waited for the weight on his thigh to signify the refilling of his pouch.

 

Nothing.

 

Frowning, he repeated the gesture. Still nothing. He removed the holster from his thigh and unloaded its contents onto the branch on which he sat. Twelve standard kunai, the one tri-pronged kunai he had left, four shuriken, two smoke bombs, a fair amount of ninja wire, a roll of chakra infused paper with a pot of ink and a brush... and the seals were still in place.

 

He channelled some excess chakra for the third time, but to no avail. His eyebrows furrowed. Nothing, again. It was like the network between the seals in the holster and the area they’d been connected to for storage had somehow been disconnected.

 

As far as Minato knew, this was impossible. The pocket where he had his items sealed was unique to him, as it was to anyone who employed seals of such a nature. With the composition itself unchanged, it was baffling how it could just have “broken” for no apparent reason.

 

Sighing, the man rubbed his eyes. His vision was slowly beginning to steady. He had been sitting still for far too long, and the surroundings were too quiet for his liking. He had no access to his specialist kunai, but it would be no bother to have more forged in Konoha, once he returned. For now, he would just have to make do. Packing everything but the twelve standardised kunai, the paper, the ink and the brush into the holster and securing it back around his thigh, his hands flew over the chakra infused paper and in no time at all, he had secured fresh seals to the regular kunai he had left.

 

Twelve kunai later, Minato got to his feet. He had been unable to sense the tag he gave to Kakashi- strange, as he was meant to be alerted when it had been thrown. The only possible reason he couldn’t sense it would be because the seal on the kunai had been destroyed somehow. That, or Kakashi had yet to use it because his mission had gone off without a hitch- but that was unlikely. His cell must have run into some trouble while he had been incapacitated. That, or the problem with the Flying Thunder God Jutsu was bigger than he’d originally thought. Shaking his head, he gathered the last of his things and packed the last of his kunai away.

 

He would entrust the mission to destroy the bridge to his team as assigned. Anything else would be an insult to their ability, and without a team of his own, heading into hostile territory without any idea of the threats that lay ahead was foolhardy. His team were probably far ahead of him by now. With Kakashi leading them, as complicated as the kid was, they should be fine.

 

To Konoha it was.

 

**† † †**

 

Iwa’s research department had been delighted to receive yet another copy of an active Hiraishin seal to analyse, if that was indeed what it was. The Yellow Flash was dead and Iwa wasn’t about to be scared into submission by a ghost. Still, their old copies of the seal had been dissected to death by Iwa’s sealing experts, but had not given up their secrets. If that was indeed the seal needed to use the Flying Thunder God technique, having another crack at it to garner its secrets was always welcome.

 

The investigation would continue. The field had been examined, the bodies dealt with, and all that had turned up was a few more of those blasted tri-pronged kunai.

 

The Iwa/Konoha war was long since over, so this breach could be seen in two possible ways.

 

First, that Konoha were feeling foolhardy enough to risk yet another war on their heads, while they were preoccupied with one already.

 

As low as his opinion of that wretched village was, Onoki didn’t believe that even their current Hokage was that much of an imbecile. Between being on the wrong end of a stalemate, the natural disaster of the Kyuubi decimating half the village, losing two Hokage in quick succession, losing near all of one of their strongest clans at the hand of its kin, and now being at war with Sunagakure, Konoha couldn’t handle another superpower knocking at their gates. Fifteen, twenty years prior, with the genius of Uchiha and Hyuuga, the genius of the Professor, and the White Fang, of the Yellow Flash, and the Sannin, and maybe, just maybe, they would have been reckless enough to try such a thing; (though with the compassionate Sarutobi at the helm, even that was debatable), but now? Konoha was on the verge of collapse. Most of their heroes were either dead, or missing-nin, and one of their strongest clans had been reduced to collector’s items.

 

If they were behind it, they wouldn’t have been idiotic enough to claim responsibility for the attack when they weren’t able to handle the recriminations- the intruder had been wielding weapons and a Jutsu or  Jutsu similar to one that had originated from the Leaf, and was wearing a Leaf hitai-ate.

 

So that left option number two- that someone was trying to stir up war between Iwa and Konoha. The list of enemies was high- there wasn’t a hidden village that wasn’t loathed by the others, no matter the treaties signed between them, but the most vocal of those enemies right now were Suna. The last he’d heard, they were having some trouble with Konoha’s forces, (and with how pathetic Konoha was right now, his opinion of the Hidden Sand dropped even further). They’d benefit directly from Stone declaring war on Leaf.

 

Wrapped in the shadows slithering across the room of his office, Onoki summoned two teams. Sunagakure or Konohagakure... Messages had been sent ahead to both by hawk informing them that Iwa were coming. Onoki _would_ discover where this threat had come from... let them _try_ to stand up to Iwa’s might.

 

**† † †**

 

He could still feel a few of his seals active in the village. Not as many as he’d laid down, but a few of them. He had originally decided to travel to Konoha by foot rather than use Hiraishin to transport back to one of the seals he’d pre-planted in the village in the hopes that he’d meet some comrades to join up with. His team weighed heavily on his mind- finding another team and venturing back onto the frontline was an attractive prospect. The further he travelled, however, the more unsettled Minato became.

 

There was no sign of warfare. The land didn’t look disturbed, the vegetation grew green and healthy, and the animals were wary, but not fearful, of his presence. On his travel back, at the height the war was at now, he was expecting to have met at least an enemy shinobi or three, but still... nothing.

 

When the landscape looked like it had slightly changed, (the brook he had passed with his team had grown in size in mere hours, apparently), it began to dawn on Minato that something really was wrong. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He’d put it down to his vision still playing up at first, but that problem had long since cleared up. He had performed the _“kai”_ Genjutsu dispelling technique to negate any possible illusion as a precaution, but it had been a half-hearted effort. He would have felt the creeping cold of a Genjutsu slipping over his mind.

 

Minato prided himself on his deductive ability, but he was pulling blanks here. He could only hope that the situation became clearer once he joined up with comrades or returned to Konoha.

 

He was making good time, had covered a good distance in a short while, and had diverted his route to exit into Takigakure territory rather than going straight through the border of Grass and Fire. The area between the two nations was heavily guarded- while a larger side of Takigakure bordered Iwa, the Grass side had a greater reach across Fire Country, and Iwa were aiming to take Taki, and possibly Ame, later, to back Fire Country into a corner. Taking Grass first stopped them from being boxed in, so Taki was relatively untouched, a perfect way to bypass them. Minato and his team had entered Grass the same way- through Taki. With the Grass/Fire border so heavily guarded, Taki territory was the way to go. While Minato was confident in his abilities, he wasn’t stupid. With a bit of luck, he’d run into some Leaf ninja in Waterfall, too.

 

A few hours into Takigakure’s land, and having been running for the better part of the day, Minato slowed to a stop. The sun was beginning to set and he wouldn’t be able to make it all the way to Konoha like this, without kitting down for the night. The disorientation from earlier had its hand in that. Travelling a little further, he came to a tree with a hollow between its numerous roots. He was too alone to risk a fire, he’d have to make do without; but it wasn’t too cold and the skies were clear. He walked a sizable perimeter around the area and wrapped it in proximity seals, seals that alerted the creator if someone was coming too close. It wasn’t like Iwa ninja to pass through Takigakure when they had such a force by the Grass/Fire border, but one could never be too careful.

 

With the seals active, his back against the earthy wall rooting the roots, and his holster close to hand, Minato drifted off into a weary sleep.

 

**† † †**

 

White hawks flow over the borders of Sand and Fire, red scrolls attached to their legs.

 

**† † †**

 

 

Two hours into the night, Minato’s proximity seals went off, rousing him from his slumber.

 

Not even a rustle of clothing betraying him as he sat up. He lowered his index finger to the floor, his senses stretching out.

 

One shinobi, two. Two shinobi travelling in his direction.

 

Iwa ninja didn’t tend to travel through Takigakure territory, but that didn’t mean there weren’t exceptions.

 

Minato slowly climbed from the den, adjusting his hitai-ate and sliding a few kunai out from his holster. If it was an enemy, for the kunai he was limited to, he had better make them count. He wrapped a small Genjutsu over his form to make himself blend better with the tree he had his back to, making an extra effort to blend his hair. It was at times like this that he cursed it; even in the dark, it was still a beacon of light. He waited.

 

Not for long, for not a minute later, they dropped from the trees into the clearing, silent as the night they were travelling in.

 

Minato noticed three things in quick succession. First, the eyes. The taller of the two had eyes that glinted red in the moonlight. Second, the hitai-ate. Konoha. Third, the slash through the metal, desecrating the village symbol.

 

Red eyes came to rest on him, flicked slightly up to rest on his forehead and Minato lunged from his place as a shuriken tore into the tree-bark his head had just been resting on.

 

A kunai flew from his hands, but was knocked off course by the shorter of the pair, sinking into a tree with a hollow _thunk_. The taller one was moving before Minato’s second kunai had even started sailing through the air, and a third was knocked from his hand as the taller danced forward with a ninjato. A body flicker was the only thing that saved Minato from being skewered through the gut.

 

His feet had barely touched the branch of the tree he’d leapt up to before the shorter one was at his throat yet again. A chance glance back as he twisted through the air revealed another pair of glaring Sharingan eyes.

 

Uchiha missing-nin. He studied their faces, but didn’t recognise them. That being said, the Uchiha liked dealing with their own missing-nin, as rare as they were, so what was this?

 

This wasn’t a good situation to be in. With an Uchiha, the odds were more favourable if you outnumbered them. Famed for their affinity with Genjutsu, if an Uchiha caught you with one, it was best to have a comrade break you out of it- illusions cast with those eyes were more of a challenge to release yourself from than a standard technique. That wasn’t to say that a person wouldn’t be able to set themselves free on their own- that was perfectly possible if you had control enough to stop your chakra flow and overpower your opponents; just that it would be slightly more difficult.

 

The problem with Sharingan users, however, was that if they weren’t coming at you with Genjutsu, then they could read your movements milliseconds before you made them, and with their copying/prediction techniques, their Ninjutsu repertoire was wide, with an answer to most of what people would throw at them. Those eyes were tricky things.

 

Landing lightly on the ground, Minato pulled his first kunai from the trunk it had grounded in, now that their positions were reversed. The seal was undamaged. He could sense his second kunai somewhere to the right, and the third just behind the taller of the two opponents. Perfect.

 

“Who are you?” Even in his questioning, Minato’s gaze was firmly on the man’s chest. There was no point in getting caught up in a Genjutsu if it was avoidable.

 

There was a pause as the taller one considered him, and then: “Our names are of no relevance to you.”

 

“You’re from Konoha, Uchiha. Your names have every bit of relevance, especially when we’re at war.”

 

The younger snorted with disgust from his place in the trees. “We haven’t been with Konoha for a long time,” he snapped, his voice biting. “Their wars are none of our concern.”

 

The taller cut in before he could continue. “Go on your way. We wish not to fight you.”

 

“Yet you were the ones to attack first.” Neither of his opponents spoke. “In any case, there are strict instructions on what to do with rogue ninja like yourselves. I can’t just let you pass when your loyalty could go to any one of the villages opposing us.”

 

The two had been reaching for weapons before that declaration was even half finished, but Minato was already gone.

 

_“Itachi! Behind-”_

Minato drew the kunai he’d ported to from the floor with practiced ease, sharp tip angled up. “Itachi’s” reflexes were extraordinarily sharp, even for an Uchiha, and he’d already begun to simultaneously jump back and turn on his heel before the shorter man had opened his mouth to warn him. His ninjato was angled to parry the blow, but Minato’s speed won out, and his kunai sunk into the man’s side. “Itachi” had moved enough that the blow wasn’t fatal, but it was enough to make him drop- for now. Minato’s added pressure to the knock- shouldering the man to the floor- made sure to guarantee that. Blood began to slowly seep out of his wound,

 

 _Uchiha Itachi, huh?_     

 

He recalled no such Uchiha; with what looked to be a high level of skill like that, as well as the fact that they allegedly hadn’t been affiliated with the village for a while, it was surprising he wasn’t more known.

 

There wasn’t time more to think on that, however, as killing intent flooded the area. A log substitution took the full force of a clawed maul that would likely have taken Minato’s head off. A chakra was visibly surrounding the young man’s figure; foul, red, and with his Sharingan also blazing, he looked like a demon of some sort. It wasn’t _natural_.

 

Putting space between them both, Minato surveyed his new opponent. Gone was the irritable youngster, in his place a crouching, glaring _thing._ The red chakra bubbled up, splitting at the back into two streams, or tails. The pupil at the centre of the Sharingan had elongated into a slit, his eyes suddenly looked a lot more defined, and his fingernails looked sharper. The kid was standing protectively over Itachi, who, with a hand pressing over his wound, was slowly getting back to his feet. The ninjato was gripped in his other fist, and his posture was tense.

 

He moved to level himself with his ally.

 

“Calm yourself.”

 

The younger directed a look at him before the killing intent dropped minutely. Directing his gaze at Minato once again, Itachi spoke.   

 

“That was no Shunsin.”

 

Minato’s brow rose. His moniker was well enough known by now, the hair and the Jutsu itself enough to give him away to anyone, but there was no dawning recognition in Itachi’s gaze, just a cool, analytic stare. “...No.”   

 

“What was it?”  When Minato didn’t answer, Itachi continued. “Some sort of seal-reliant technique? You seem to have a proficiency with them, your proximity seals were evidence of that.”

 

 _So they had been sensed_ , Minato mused. _And yet they walked right through them... Overconfidence?_

 

“My Sharingan gives colour to chakra. It may have been faint, but it was detectable. The same for those kunai you’re using.”

 

He truly didn’t know. What was the harm in telling him? It was hardly a secret- it seemed everyone on the continents knew his technique aside from the two in front of him.

 

Minato smiled. “It is a technique that uses seals, yes. Hiraishin. The Flying Thunder God Jutsu.”

 

Itachi’s eyes narrowed. Finally, recognition. “That’s impossible.”

 

Minato raised a kunai. “Not quite.”    

 

The man slowly blinked, the tomoe of his Sharingan spinning lazily. Minato kept his eyes lowered. “My name is Uchiha Itachi. What is yours?” Itachi’s hand pointing out at him punctuated his statement. Minato almost smiled, again. Most Uchiha were brought up to be the epitome of politeness in all ways, (like the Hyuuga, they had a dignified reputation to uphold), yet the man was _pointing_ at him. It was something Obito would have done, though he probably would have been a lot more dramatic about it. Itachi, on the other hand, had probably disregarded his manners with his loyalty to the village he had hailed from. 

 

“Namikaze Minato.”

 

 The demonic boy’s lips curled.

 

And then Minato felt the subtle trickle of Genjutsu washing over his mind before the tree to his back immobilised him, its branches reaching forward to simultaneously choke off his air supply and lift him off his feet. Forcing down the urge to grapple the branches off, he focussed his chakra, driving the kunai clutched between his fingers into his leg and shattering the Genjutsu. Head snapping back, Minato surveyed the now empty clearing.

 

Slowly crouching down, he lowered an index finger to the dirt. They were fleeing, and fast. In the direction of Grass.

 

For a second, his mind wrestled with itself. Chase after them, or return to Konoha? His logical side won out. If he was to return to their trail, he’d need more supplies, for they were obviously skilled. It would have to come later.

 

Sighing, he gathered the last of the kunai strewn across the battlefield, before turning and beginning back on his route to Konoha. There would be no more rest for him tonight.

 

His mind wandered over the two shinobi he’d just fought with.

 

The Uchiha boy who’d grown chakra tails, (the hairs on the back of his neck were still standing slightly on end- the killing intent he’d generated was humongous- and Minato had had a lot of that intent levelled at him over the years), and Uchiha Itachi.

 

Casting Genjutsu with a _finger_.

 

Who’d have thought it?

 

Though the Uchiha were certainly a genius clan, he’d never heard of such a thing... He’d have to ask Fugaku when he was back in the village. His wife had given birth a few months prior, anyway, and Kushina had wanted to visit her. The two had been friends since childhood.

 

Still, it was strange how he’d never heard of this Uchiha until now. For all his skill, Minato couldn’t recall a single bit of information about him prior to this meeting.

 

_Uchiha Itachi. I shall have to remember that name._

 

**† † †**

 

Konoha’s gate guards watched with distaste as the team of Iwa ninja left the village. The sashay in their steps was plainly evident. Even the Godaime, who was renowned for his poker face, had a steely glint in his eye. His fingernails were digging into the wood of his walking stick, his knuckles slowly whitening. As the Iwa ninja faded into the trees, Shimura Danzo turned on his heel and strode back into the village.

 

**† † †**

 

 

The sun had risen, travelled across the sky, and begun to set yet again, when Minato finally caught sight of the Village Hidden in the Leaves on the horizon. The majestic gates of the village stretched up high above the treetops. They weren’t breached. It was safe. Which was why it had been a little unnerving to have passed not a single patrol of leaf ninja as he travelled through Fire Country to get to his destination.

 

With night starting to fall again, and with the village in the midst of fighting a war, it was standard practice for it to shut the gates when the sun had set. There were lookouts stationed across the top, and naturally, there were Chunin stationed by each closed gate, ready to either give access or warn the village and then stand as the first line of defence against an invading enemy.

 

Still uneasy about the lack of activity surrounding the village- he was well within range to be easily spotted, now- Minato decided to keep to the shadows. Upon reaching the gate, he frowned. There was no-one there. Were they on lockdown? There was no logical reason for there to be no guards at the gates, not unless something big was happening. Not having the patience to climb over the walls of the gate, he did the easiest thing. It seemed he’d have to report straight to the Hokage tower once he was inside, there was nothing left to it. That, or he could make a small detour to Kushina’s, first. She’d have the answers to his questions.

 

Stretching out his senses, he felt the traces of chakra of the seals he had planted in the village before he’d left. Strangely enough, he could only feel about three of them, the rest still weren’t accessible- he’d have to examine his Flying Thunder God technique properly when he could- whatever that Jutsu was that that Jounin had thrown had definitely knocked something off kilter. His seals had never just _stopped_ working without a valid reason. And why were only some of them inactive? With a shake of his head, he was gone.

 

He reappeared at the garden gate of Kushina’s apartment, and took a moment to survey the area, (all quiet- the streets were empty, the night dark), before turning to walk up the path. His eyes came to rest on the house and he came to a halt.

 

The house was not Kushina’s. Oh, the gate was the same, polished wood looking maybe just a little more weathered than usual, but the apartment wasn’t. It was as if someone had ripped the gate up and moved the entire thing; just to place it in front of some other house. The use in that, Minato didn’t know. In fact, studying the house again a little more closely, he couldn’t say he’d seen one built quite like that in Konoha before...

 

Quashing down the irritation beginning to crawl on the edge of his senses, now, at yet another strange development, Minato turned on his heel. There had to be a perfectly good explanation for _this_ at the very least. To the Hokage's tower it was. He’d find Kushina later, she’d laugh at his luck, and everything would be fine.

 

Using Hiraishin once again, he appeared in the hallway outside the Sandaime’s office. Rapping on the door, he waited for an answer. When none came, he strode into the room. The man- that was _not_ the Sandaime!- hunched over the desk glanced up sharply.

 

Black seals shot out as Minato’s foot touched the floor, wrapping over his legs, leeching, _leeching_.

 

Minato fell to his knees.

 

**† † †**

 

He was sitting on a hard-seated chair. There was something over his head. His hands were tied tightly enough behind his back to cut off the circulation, leaving them feeling heavy and stiff, and his legs were in not much better condition. His head was pounding. Minato was painfully aware of the sudden lack of weapons on his person, as he woke. Even more worrying was how close he felt to Chakra exhaustion.

 

The seals in the Sandaime’s office probably had something to do with that. Minato really hadn’t been lucky with seals over the past couple of days.

 

Keeping silent, he began to try to test out his restraints. He could shift, slightly, but he was tied down tight. He strained his ears for the sound of anything that would give him some information about what exactly was going on, but to no avail. He was separated from whoever had done this- they were smart enough for that, at least.

 

He didn’t think he was in Konoha’s custody. Granted, the Sandaime could have increased the security in his office, but if it was Konoha, he would have been recognised and released right away.

 

No, it seemed someone had infiltrated the village. The man at the Sandaime’s desk was most certainly _not_ the Sandaime, though Minato didn’t get enough of a good look at him to put a name to the face.

 

The situation didn’t look good. With no weapons and low on chakra, even if he did get free, he doubted he could get far. Lucky for him, he didn’t have to walk. A few of his tags were still active, but there was no use in leaving if he could get answers first. 

 

The door opened with a click. Booted feet thudded across the floor, and the cloth covering his head was roughly removed as a grizzled beast of a man stared down at him. The hitai-ate signified Leaf.

 

The man’s eyebrow rose. “So, imposter. How about you save us all some time and explain yourself?”

 

**† † †**

 

 


	3. Chapter 3: Between a Rock and a Leafy Place, (Dead Man Walking)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: ‘Naruto’ is the property of Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Viz Media, TV Tokyo, and other associated parties. I claim no ownership of the franchise, characters or settings, nor am I affiliated with the above parties in any way. The following is a fan-work, written for my amusement, and not for material or monetary gain. Please support the official releases. (I don’t own this).

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**† † †**

 

**FastForward**

**Chapter 3: Between a Rock and a Leafy Place, (Dead Man Walking)**

 

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 _There is no serenity like the serenity that comes from knowing that you can kick every ass in the room_.

\- Debra Doyle 

**† † †**

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Minato stared up at the man. The man stared back.

 

“Staying quiet? It’s fine. There are plenty of ways to make you talk, eventually. I have time.”

 

The man was looking at him with a bored expression on his face. A few seconds later, he started circling the room. It was then that Minato got a glimpse of where he was being held. It wasn’t a large room by any means. No windows to the outside, a small mirror in the wall that no doubt allowed people to look back at him, though he could see nothing but his reflection, and a table to the far right. Minato was facing the door. Righting his gaze so it was fixed to the front again, Minato heard the man’s voice from behind him.

 

“Quite an interesting technique you have there, I must say. It’s not a normal henge, we’ve tried disrupting it already-”

 

Indeed, Minato could feel the source of his headache throbbing away- it seemed someone had thought hitting him hard enough would dispel whatever they thought he was hiding.

 

“-and there’re no visible signs of surgery. We checked.” He gave Minato a speculative look. “Definitely a tricky transformation technique. But it’s no bother. We’ll be taking that secret from you sooner or later.”

 

Minato didn’t quite like the sound of that, Hiraishin or no.

 

“Just over 179 centimetres tall, 145.7 pounds in weight... You know,” the man said, “you’d be a perfect copy of Namikaze Minato if it weren’t for the fact you’re not a corpse rotting in the ground. He came to a stop in front of Minato, who stared back, eyes impassive.

 

“Wishful thinking?”

 

The interrogator’s lip curled, and he began pacing again.

 

“ _Who_ are you?”

 

“ _Where_ am I?”

 

“The hitai-ate isn’t enough to tell you?”

 

“You aren’t a shinobi of Konoha.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“It’s not hard to fake a village insignia.”

 

The interrogator threw his head back and laughed. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

 

He slowly slipped through Minato’s peripheral vision, _thud, thud thudding_ his way behind Minato’s back before coming into view again, then heading round to the right to take a seat on the table. Minato ignored him, eyes resolutely kept forward.

 

“If you’re Leaf, I want to talk to the Hokage.”

 

“The Hokage has no time for imposters,” the man said shortly. 

 

“Convenient.”

 

“What is your name?”

 

“Shouldn’t you be introducing yourself, first?”

 

“I’m not one for manners. Now _what_ is your name?”

 

Silence.

 

...

 

Minato had the feeling the man was heavily trying to refrain from rolling his eyes.

 

“...Morino Ibiki.”

 

Minato had never heard of him in his life.

 

“Namikaze Minato.”

 

“Your _real_ name.”

 

“ _Namikaze Minato_.”

 

“What village do you hail from?” Ibiki asked, deciding to move on. By now, his fingers were drumming on the tabletop.

 

“Isn’t it obvious?”

 

“Humour me.”

 

“Konohagakure.”

 

Ibiki crossed his arms, walking back to the front of the room. “So, _Namikaze Minato_ , do you care to explain yourself? What are you doing in Konoha?”

 

Minato stared back.

 

He wasn’t being believed.

 

Truthfully, Minato didn’t know why he was alive at this point in time. Not one of the shinobi nations would hesitate to kill him if they had the opportunity to get their hands on him; he had too much blood on his hands to be ignored, and his reputation usually proceeded him. He was regarded as too dangerous to be kept as a prisoner- whoever this was; they had had him unconscious for however long he had been out for, and hadn’t taken the opportunity to kill him while he had been helpless. They’d let him wake up. Not that he wasn’t grateful for that, but something clearly wasn’t right here.

 

His identity wasn’t even being accepted. The lack of recognition would have been liberating, would have made things easier in certain other cases, but here it was just troubling. There weren’t asking him for information on the Leaf, or how Hiraishin or Rasengan worked. His identity was their main priority, when it was plainly evident to all who he was. Clearly someone was trying to unbalance him, and truthfully, it was working.

 

Certainly, it was strange, but ever since that run in on the battlefield, his grasp of the logic of life had long been thrown into disarray.

 

He’d talk, but he’d only tell the man what he should already know. He had the option of leaving anytime he saw fit- not a way they could stop him- another great asset of the Flying Thunder God technique.

 

“I returned to Konoha after a mission- I wasn’t able to regroup with my team.”

 

“And where were you, that you had to go without your team?”

 

There was no use in hiding this- the battlefield had been a mess, and as good as shinobi were with secrets, they also loved to talk. That mission had been completed and Leaf weren’t even attempting to hide their involvement. 

 

“I was called to assist a battle with a platoon of Iwa nin further north in grass.”

 

“And?”

 

“There were complications, but... mission successful.”

 

“The shinobi?”

 

“Dead.”

 

“And your team?”

 

Minato said nothing.

  

Ibiki smiled, the scars on his face growing taut. “That’s quite the story.” He leaned forward. “Now how about the truth?”

 

Minato’s gaze was impassive.

 

“You know,” Ibiki started, “that mission is on the books. _Your_ team’s mission was to destroy Kannabi bridge, was it not?” The flash in the eyes of an otherwise composed face made Ibiki smirk.

 

“They failed.”  He straightened up. “Of course, this means nothing to _you_.” He got to his feet, turning to the door. “When you feel like talking, I’ll be back.”

 

“ _What_ happened to my team?” Minato asked Ibiki’s retreating form. His eyes sparked electric as he glared at the man’s back.

 

“To _your_ team? I have no idea, imposter. Namikaze Minato’s team, though,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s none of your business.”

 

The door clicked shut.

 

**† † †**

 

Mitarashi Anko raised an eyebrow at the sight of her mentor finally emerging from the room. She’d been watching from the small window that allowed fellow personnel to look in and observe, but when Ibiki was in the torture and interrogation room, most stayed away. He had a reputation, after all.

 

“Well?”

 

Ibiki shrugged, easing the stiffness of his neck. “He believes he’s telling the truth. Or he’s good enough a liar to make me believe he believes it. I can’t quite tell yet.”

 

“But that’s impossible; he can’t be telling the truth.”

 

“Of course not.”

 

“But then there’s the rumours of what happened in Kusa...”

 

“Probably Iwa trying to start something, again. It wouldn’t be the first time.” The two began walking down the hall, Ibiki nodding to a passing ANBU to return watch on the room.

 

“You can’t deny what we found in his holster wasn’t interesting, though.”

 

“A few standard issue kunai with tags wrapped around them, and a tri-pronged kunai, Anko, I know. But one tri-pronged kunai Namikaze Minato does not make. By all rights, Namikaze is dead. Or if he did survive, he’d certainly be older. This kid doesn’t look a day older than twenty-one.”

 

“Stranger things have happened,” Anko muttered. “But it’s still quite the odd occurrence.” They rounded a corner.

 

“And where exactly do you think he was over the past nineteen years? How did he get here? Time-travel?” Ibiki snorted. “I know you’re batshit at times, Anko, but this is a whole new level for you.”

 

He deserved the punch in the shoulder for that one. “I didn’t mean it like that. You said it scar-face, not m-”

 

An ANBU body-flicked into their path. “You’re needed back at holding cell one.”

 

Ibiki raised an eyebrow, and the ANBU shifted under the gaze. “ _Elaborate.”_

 

“The holding cell,” the ANBU said, “- it’s empty.”

 

**† † †**

 

Minato stood on the Sandaime’s head on the Hokage's monument, gazing down at the village below. He’d often use the tag there if he needed to think- no doubt it worked just as well as an escape route. His eyes roving across the village, the slight sting of his wrists from the rope-burn was lost in the gulf of what he was seeing. The things he was seeing... they weren’t even _big_ changes. A new building where there had been a training field before. An area of the village that looked shabbier than the last time he’d seen it. Another place that had been completely refurbished. The Hokage's tower looked as good as ever, but the village wasn’t faring better for it. 

 

Then came the biggest change of all. He gazed to his left. Instead of the Sandaime’s head being the last carved on the monument, there were now a solid five engraved into the rock. In the dim moonlight, he wasn’t able to quite make out who the additional two were, but they were definitely there.

 

In hindsight, it was probably the biggest change he’d come across, one that couldn’t be written off as some strange isolated occurrence. He most likely would have noticed it straight off had the sun been shining in the sky and he been looking for it- the Hokage monument was visible from just about everywhere in the village. But he hadn’t been looking, and the mountain had been a misshapen mass in the dark, even if he’d glanced at it.

 

Kushina’s house hadn’t been where he’d left it, (as ridiculous as that sounded), landmarks had changed. Most of the tags he’d made before that accident weren’t working, and Konoha was different. The Hokage monument had changed. It wasn’t an illusion, and Konoha had not been compromised. The few tags that were active were proof of that- no-one knew, nor could have forced that information out of him.

 

A figure stepped up onto the Sandaime’s head, behind him. Hokage's robes flapped in the night breeze, and Minato tensed. With his chakra as low as it was, and with no weapons at hand, he wasn’t in a good position. The Hokage was alone.

 

The figure removed his hat with one hand, and held out a paper to Minato with the other.

 

“We took a DNA sample while you were unconscious. It matched directly to those on the records for Namikaze Minato.”

 

His identity was finally being recognised, then. His shoulders loosened up slightly, and Minato’s gaze fell back to the village.

 

“My name is Shimura Danzo,” the man said. Indeed, as the moonlight alighted his features, Minato could remember seeing the man around from time to time. He’d been a teammate of the Sandaime’s.

 

“I am the Godaime Hokage of the Village Hidden in the Leaves. Come, Namikaze Minato, we have much to discuss.”

 

**† † †**

 

“How long?”

 

Danzo stared at the man in front of him with a contemplative gaze.

 

Namikaze had quashed any hesitance at stepping into the office again, and the unflappable exterior of the young man was still firmly in place, but the burning of that tiny, tiny spark in his eyes was a whole other thing entirely.

 

His blue eyes had taken in the office with a curious look, gaze wandering over the seals engraved into the walls, etched into the area by the window and above the door. A Hokage who had more than a passing acquaintance with Fuinjutsu, then. Comprehension had dawned, along with a small smile of bemusement before his mind was back to the topic at hand.

 

“Twenty years.” For now he’d allow Namikaze his questions.

 

Minato took it in his stride.

 

“My team?”

 

“Their last mission was a failure, Kannabi bridge remained standing. Obito Uchiha was killed in action, Kakashi Hatake was killed in action, Iwa gained possession of a Sharingan eye.”

 

The spasm in Namikaze’s hand and the slight flare of his nostrils was enough to give him away.

 

“Rin?”

 

“A Jounin instructor.”

 

Minato nodded.

 

“Jiraiya-Sensei? Uzumaki Kushina?”

 

“Jiraiya is stationed away from the village. Uzumaki was killed in the attack of the Kyuubi no Yoko about sixteen years ago.”

 

Minato’s breath froze in his lungs. The _Kyuubi_? Kushina. _Kushina?_

 

“The war?” if Danzo heard the thrum of emotion in Minato’s voice, he didn’t comment.

 

“With your disappearance and the failure of the mission, Konoha lost their foothold over Kusagakure. The war fell out of our favour.” The Godaime’s voice had gone cold.

 

Minato’s mind drifted back to the aftermath of the Jutsu. The noise, the Iwa shinobi, the rush-

 

“There’ll be more time for your questions later, Namikaze. Tell me,” Danzo said, “how exactly did this situation come about?”

 

Danzo sounded as inflectionless as he had throughout the whole of the conversation, though through the haze of his mind, Minato belatedly realised the gleam in his eye.

 

 _Time-travel_ , his mind churned over. _A weapon that could be used to cause unimaginable damage if one could control it..._

Space/Time Jutsu were feared enough, as it was. The limits to which Jutsu were progressing was amazing, but a time-travel Jutsu was in a league above them all. A master of such a technique could end war with such a threat- the threat that they would be able to go back before an enemy became strong enough to become an enemy, and wipe them out while they were defenceless. The threat that an enemy would be able to go forward and know the outcomes of battles and wars before they took place. The master of such a technique would have the shinobi world in the palm of their hands...

 

...Until, of course, the world was done being held hostage, and decided to take that power back by force.

 

Minato shook his head. He needed to focus. “I don’t know, exactly. The Flying Thunder God Jutsu reacted negatively to whatever Jutsu the Iwa Jounin was performing. I couldn’t tell exactly what it was, but my gut says it was probably another Space/Time technique.”

 

“Iwa hasn’t been known for their Space/Time techniques... Kumo have been gaining progression in that area since they gained possession of the Nidaime’s body with that blasted Kinkaku Force, but not Iwa. Not that we knew of, regardless. Do you have any information on the Jounin?” The Godaime had pulled out a brush, an inkpot and a scroll, and was lathering characters on to it in firm, deliberate stokes.

 

“If I identified him correctly from my bingo book,” Minato started, “then his name was Takeshi Raiden. There wasn’t much information about him, however. A Jounin from a small clan, but gaining recognition on the Iwa line for his battle prowess. Some information on the Earth techniques he’d been spotted using, collected by Konoha’s intelligence, but nothing too substantial.”

 

“And yet you think he was using Space/Time techniques?”

 

“I don’t imagine another Jutsu type having that same effect on Hiraishin,” Minato repeated quietly, voice wary. Danzo’s head tilted a fraction in assent, his hand still flowing over the scroll. 

 

“Continue.”

 

Minato almost frowned at that, but carried on. “After the clash, I felt disorientated, but was transported to another battlefield. I was surrounded by Iwa shinobi, and they were on the attack, so I retaliated.”

 

Danzo had stopped writing. His attention was solely back on Minato, now. “Where did the Jutsu accident deposit you?”

 

“Somewhere still in northern Kusa, I don’t know the area name.”

 

Danzo’s eyes were boring into Minato, now. “The Red Fields?”

 

“I’m not aware of the name.”

 

“Of course you aren’t,” Danzo said. “The Red Fields were named after your disappearance. Where the very grasses were dyed red by the blood that was spilled during the battle; where Iwa claimed _your_ defeat.” Danzo leaned back in his chair.

 

“You wouldn’t be aware of this, but Iwa sent a team here earlier today.”

 

Minato’s brow was creasing.

 

“They demanded to know why we sabotaged their annual _parade_ , the parade in which they celebrate their _defeat_ of Konoha. They wanted to know who assassinated the granddaughter of their Kage. The attacker was, in their words, a man who was impersonating _their_ impersonator of _you_.”  

 

 _A parade?_ The noise, the rush, the hiss.

 

_“Scum!”_

_“Konoha filth!”_

_“Give the bastard everything he deserves!”_

 

The weapons being flung in his direction.

 

...What kind of shinobi used soft projectiles?

 

“Their _defeat_ of Konoha?”

 

“Konoha and Iwa have not been at war for years. Not officially.”

 

Though that may not be the case for much longer.

 

What had he done?

 

“I-”

 

_“Continue.”_

 

Ashamed, eyes unable to hold the Hokage's any longer, Minato’s gaze dropped to the desk between them. “After I escaped the battle, I was going to regroup with my team, but I couldn’t sense the tag on the kunai I’d given to Kakashi-”

 

_-He had been unable to sense the tag he gave to Kakashi- strange, as he was meant to be alerted when it had been thrown. The only possible reason he couldn’t sense it would be because the seal on the kunai had been destroyed somehow. That, or Kakashi had yet to use it because his mission had gone off without a hitch- but that was unlikely. His cell must have run into some trouble while he had been incapacitated -_

 

_-Obito Uchiha was killed in action, Kakashi Hatake was killed in action, Iwa gained possession of a Sharingan eye-_

 

“-and most of the tags that I’d previously laid down were also inactive. So I created a new set and decided to return to Konoha in order to be assigned a new mission. I thought to travel through Takigakure, because there was a lesser chance of encountering Rock nin. I noticed some things out of the ordinary, but I wasn’t in an illusion, and I attributed it partly to the disorientation and partly to the effect of the war on the landscape.”

 

One didn’t jump to time-travel as their first conclusion, after all. Or their second or third conclusion, either.

 

“I settled down to rest, but encountered some Konoha missing nin not too much later. Uchiha missing nin. Uchiha Itachi and one other-”

 

“-Did you kill them?”

 

Minato looked back up at the Hokage. “No. We battled,” he said, gesturing to his injured leg, “but they escaped. Itachi’s accomplice had a strange chakra ability- I wasn’t able to analyse it well. Just note that it created some visible tail-like appendages from chakra- increased his speed somewhat, but not much more than that. I didn’t battle him. Who were they?”

 

Danzo resumed writing. “You were an acquaintance of Uchiha Fugaku’s?”

 

Minato nodded.

 

“They were his sons.”

 

_-He’d have to ask Fugaku when he was back in the village. His wife had given birth a few months prior, anyway, and Kushina had wanted to visit her-_

 

Fugaku must have been heartbroken. That, or taken it as an insult to himself, and the pride of his clan, and sworn to bring them in himself for the insult they’d brought to the clan’s honour. 

 

As Kushina had pointed out on more than one occasion, Fugaku had a tendency to be more than a little stuffy. It was the sort of thing he’d do. If he had been feeling a little more jolly, Minato would even have made a joke out of it to lighten the situation up. Or not. Kushina was just better in that department.

 

But Kushina was dead.

 

A sharp rap on the door interrupted both the men from their thoughts.

 

“Enter.”

 

The door swung open, a purple-haired woman striding in. There was a look of frustration on her face, but it was quickly smoothed over with a leer when she saw the Hokage's guest.

 

“I take it you found our guest, Hokage-sama... want us to take him off your hands? Ibiki’s not happy.”

 

“That won’t be necessary, Anko.”

 

“Aw, but Ibiki was looking forward to breaking him.” Anko smirked.

 

“He’s no enemy of Konoha, Anko. Get someone to retrieve his effects. He’ll be reinstated soon.”

 

Anko raised an eyebrow. “ _Re_ instated, you say? He was who he said he was, then?”

 

“That’s classified.”

 

The girl gave a mock salute, and the door swung shut as she went to do as she was ordered.

 

“You realise that the situation is volatile,” Danzo said, rolling up the scroll on his desk. “We need to keep your identity from the outside for as long as possible. Your rash actions have made things difficult for the village.”

 

Minato swallowed. “I want to fix this.”

 

“You’ll be assigned to a team tomorrow. The receptionist at the front desk will assign you to a temporary apartment- you can move elsewhere when you have the means. What you decide to make of your story to the citizens of Konoha, I’ll leave to your own discretion. You’re dismissed.”

 

Minato couldn’t imagine Sarutobi Hiruzen addressing his shinobi in such a way. The Third would have let him talk, and ask questions for as long as he was able. The Godaime was the furthest from the Sandaime’s manner as he could get.

 

...Then again, Minato had never given the Sandaime reason to be angry with him. Minato had never caused such disruption, never brought the threat of war down on Konoha when the Sandaime had been in power. He supposed the Godaime’s brashness was deserved.

 

Getting to his feet, Minato gave a short bow, and then walked from the room.

 

He was exhausted, but he had much to dwell on. His mind was reeling, coldness slipping through the crevices of his brain as it tinkered to try to make the world make sense once again. It was failing dismally.

 

Whatever happened, he doubted he would be getting any sleep that night.

 

**† † †**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...And I completely didn't realise that I'd saved chapter two as a draft and never published it  >_>. Apologies!


	4. Chapter 4: The Nail that Sticks Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto and TV Tokyo. Please support the official releases. (I don’t own this).

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**† † †**

 

**Fastforward**

**Chapter 4: The Nail that Sticks Out**

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.

 

_The price of a memory is the memory of the sorrow it brings._

\- Pittacus Lore, _I Am Number Four_

 

**† † †**

.

.

.

 

 

He had been right, of course. His mind had been churning for hours. That Anko girl had come along a small time before sunrise to leer at him and hand him back the remains of his gear, before she’d vanished into the night and left him with his thoughts once again.

 

Pummelling his pillow, Minato turned onto his stomach.

 

Kakashi was dead. Obito was dead. Chances were his team had fallen into trouble while he had been “ _time-travelling”_ and they’d died because he hadn’t been there to watch them. Minato was a shinobi and he knew that death on the frontlines was a risk that every ninja accepted as a possible outcome when they took their headbands on graduation from the academy, but his team was _young_. It had been his understanding that he’d protect them as best as he could until they became fine adults in their own right, but he had failed.

 

Kakashi had been his responsibility for years. From when he’d been assigned to take the boy on as an apprentice, to when he’d moved him into his house when Sakumo had killed himself and beyond, Kakashi had been someone who Minato _should_ have been watching. No matter how much of a genius he had been. He had had much to learn, and he had even been beginning to thaw, but it hadn’t saved him.

 

Obito. Minato would miss the boy grow into the potential he knew had been sitting in the depths of that spark. That heart- it wasn’t common to see a heart like that in a shinobi. Many hardened ninja would look down on him for it, but that compassion, it shaped great men, great leaders. Obito would have been no exception, and now he was dead. And as an additional kick in the teeth, someone had pillaged his body and stolen the birthright he had probably only just awakened in the time after Minato had left them.

 

Rin was elsewhere, still alive at the least, though Minato doubted she’d want to see him. She must have moved on after all this time; she must have grown up and forgotten, or tried to forget all about them. Losing your first cell was never easy. Minato had experienced it himself. His own Sensei had drunk himself into a stupor when Minato had been the only one left. Rin had taken on a team of her own. Remembering the caring nature she’d always exhibited, Minato had no doubt she was a great Sensei.

 

And Kushina. Kushina and her smiles, her laughs, her jokes. Kushina and her red, red hair, almost as fiery as her temper itself at times.

 

Minato buried his face into the pillow beneath his head, body curling up under the sheets.

 

The staying quarters the Godaime Hokage had provided were simplistic in nature. A small kitchen and living space with a single room and adjoined bathroom. There was a lone empty bookcase in the bedroom, and the kitchen was empty of anything edible. He’d have to fix that soon.

 

The sun was beginning to filter through the shabby blinds by the window opposite his bed, and Minato burrowed more deeply under his covers.

 

  _-ObitoKakashiKushinaKyuubi-_

 

Minato’s eyes finally fluttered to a close.

 

**† † †**

 

Nohara Rin watched her team stroll ahead of her. Reprising the number of the team she herself had been a part of, Team Seven consisted of Aburame Shino, heir to the Aburame clan, a clan famous throughout Konoha for their insect Jutsu, Inuzuka Kiba and his oversized white “puppy”, Akamaru, and Haruno Sakura, a civilian-born shinobi.

 

At present, Shino was slightly behind his other teammates, keeping distance between himself and Sakura, who was waving her fists at Kiba, for another crass comment passing his lips, no doubt.

 

It was a frequently occurring event, one that bore familiarity with its repetition. Sometimes Rin believed her team bonded through their constant arguments- their personalities certainly clashed enough, but they always watched out for each-other; she expected no less.

 

The new Team Seven only loosely resembled her own Genin cell, and for that, she was always grateful. They were individuals, and the echoes of personalities that had belonged to others before them, that were associated with her first team, were few and far between.

 

“Sensei,” Kiba called back from ahead, “is this the right place?” He was gesturing to a rundown building, and Rin eyed the wrecked structure with distaste.

 

Some of the windows on the lower levels of the apartment building had been smashed in, and juvenile scribbling covered the walls.

 

Pulling the mission scroll from its place in her pocket, Rin glanced at the address again.

 

“Seems so.”

 

It was an S-ranked mission, strange for the fact that it took place in the village itself. The Godaime had assigned an extra shinobi to their team for a small while. The shinobi had been out of the village for some time (for reasons that weren’t specified; Rin knew better than to ask), and needed to be integrated back into life at Konoha. Rin had found that strange, but had decided to temper the curiosity beginning to gnaw on the edges of her consciousness until she actually met the man.

 

If the apartment looked run-down on the outside, the inside was worse. The air was stuffy and stale, causing Sakura to sneeze more than once. Kiba, whose nose was by far the most sensitive of the team, had yet to stop sniffling as the dust was kicked up by their passing. The team walked up a rickety staircase, which creaked ominously with every step.

 

Coming to the right door, Kiba knocked, almost knocking the door down in his enthusiasm. He’d been the most excited to hear of the mission; a shinobi who’d been out of the village for so long would definitely have a lot of stories to tell. While her three students were all of Chunin rank, they still retained a lot of the innocence they’d had since she’d been assigned their mentor. Rin couldn’t remember what that was like, it had been far too long for her, but she’d strive to make sure that they could stay the same for as long as possible. They may have been at war, but that didn’t mean that she’d allow this team to end up like her first.

 

Kiba knocked on the door again, impatience beginning to colour his features. Sakura turned back.

 

“Sensei, you sure you we’ve got the right place?”

 

“Assuredly-”

 

The door swung open. A shock of blonde hair sticking up in all directions, but slightly flatter on the left, as if he’d been woken from lying on his side. His black shirt was askew. Blue eyes, a colour she’d seen once, but had yet to see again.

 

The blood drained from her face at the uncanny resemblance to her late Sensei- _a relative perhaps?_ \- her mind input as background noise.

 

 His clothes were rumpled and eyes tired, but a spark of _something_ ignited as they alighted on her.

 

“Sensei, are you feeling unwell?” Shino murmured, glancing back at her. His voice was quiet from the confines of his hood, but it was clear all the same. She could just make out the faint buzz of his insects.

 

 _“Rin?”_ It was quiet, hesitant, apologetic, even, but the tone was no different to the one that would filter in through memories she had locked away long ago.

 

Kiba’s eyes flicked back to the doorway.

 

“You know our Sensei?” The muscles in the boy’s shoulders had tightened almost imperceptibly, and his eyes, narrower than moments before, were trained on Minato’s every move. He was suspicious, his fingers absently patting a tensing Akamaru. Of course the dog would have picked up on her sudden discomfort 

 

“Go to training ground three and begin warming up,” Rin said, voice faint. “We’ll meet you there in a little while.” The gaze she levelled at the three of them left no room for argument, but they were angling curious looks back in her direction as they filtered from the hallway. Rin ignored them.

 

Every line on the man’s face was the same as it had been the last time she’d seen him.

 

Her vocal cords struggled to work.

 

_“Sensei?”_

 

**† † †**

 

After that splutter, Rin had not said much.

 

 _“They’re dead.”_ A hiss.

 

 _“Time-travel, you say?”_   Scorn.

 

 _“A lot has changed.”_ Ice _._

 

To Minato, the sweet girl had changed into a jaded woman overnight. Over two nights, to be exact.

 

At least she’d healed his leg.

 

He peered at her beneath his lashes, but her dark hair, longer at the front by a few inches than it had been when he’d last seen it, was loose and hiding her face. Her navy coat, slid on top of her Jounin vest, flapped in the wind.

 

The two had left the apartment for the training grounds in terse silence. Plenty of people were greeting Rin, though her replies were clipped, and her smiles more like grimaces.

 

“So, that was your team, Rin?” Minato hedged. The answer was obvious, but with his young student suddenly so old, he found himself unbalanced. Her reactions to him prior were not of the Rin he knew- the sweet girl who’d mediate and look for peaceful solutions. This _woman_ was angry. She was sad, bitter. He understood that anger- he doubted that if their positions were reversed, he would have taken it with composure, himself, but the two would have to maintain a working relationship for now. Until they could build something better, at least.

 

It was understandable that she blamed him, to some extent, for how the team had turned out; he had vanished and while it was understood by anyone who took on a hitai-ate that there may be no coming back from missions, Rin had been left alone to cope with the loss of her entire cell in one fell swoop. A complication with _his_ Jutsu was the reason things had ended up as they had, though he couldn’t have foreseen such an event happening. He had owed her an explanation, but she hadn’t taken it well.

 

But Rin had been his student.

 

Even if she technically _was_ older than him, now, pushing thirty-one to his twenty-one. And wasn’t that a strange thought.

 

“Yes.”

 

“How long have you been teaching them?”

 

“Four years.”

 

“And they’re all Chunin already?”  It sounded impressed, even to his own ears, and Rin bristled.

 

“Obito and I were Chunin at eleven, and Kakashi Jounin at thirteen,” she pointed out, voice flat.

 

“That wasn’t entirely down to me, though.” Minato shrugged. “Besides, we were at war, then; promotions got sped up.”

 

It was an unpleasant fact, but true all the same. Where forces were running low, the Leaf was no different to anywhere else. When stretched thin and deploying troops, age was disregarded and standards lowered- the experience could make or break a shinobi, and the breakings were nothing short of fatal.

 

“We’re still at war,” Rin said, shooting him a look, brown eyes cold. “Not with Iwa, but war is war.”

 

Minato blinked.

 

“With Suna,” the woman continued, “didn’t Hokage-sama explain this to you?”

 

Danzo had said nothing of the sort.

 

Even while digesting that information, Minato could see some of the older generation doing double takes as they walked by. Whispers were passed from mouths to ears, and from behind hands. 

 

The silence filled the gap between master and student once again, tension bleeding into the air. The two Jounin finally reached their destination, stepping onto the far end of the training field.

 

The Inuzuka boy, (the dog had given his clan away), and the Aburame, (likewise with the buzz he’d heard in the hallway), were dancing through forms as they sparred. The lone girl of the team had her nose buried in a text book as she sat cross-legged under a willowy tree.

 

The Aburame was the first to notice their arrival, hand coming up, causing his opponent to halt in his tracks. The Inuzuka yelled for the girl, and the three stood to attention as their Sensei and her guest drew near.

 

“What took you so long, Sensei?” The wilder looking boy grinned, canines sharper than was usual. His words were to his Sensei, his eyes squared on Minato.

 

“You’re the shinobi who’s joining our team, then?” the pink-haired girl asked.

 

“You don’t _look_ very old,” Kiba added, giving Minato a once over. “You can’t have been out of the village for that long- and Rin-Sensei knows you- so who are you?”

 

Minato glanced at his old student and noticed the woman slowly massaging her temples with tense fingers. Sensing his gaze, Rin dug her other hand into her vest pocket and tossed him a scroll.

 

 _Mission Ranking S_ , it read, the script at the top in elegant calligraphy. _Issued to Team Seven, headed by Jounin Medic Nohara Rin... with the assistance of male shinobi... integrate back into village life... extended cell for a duration of time... until further notice._ His eyes skipped over the mission scroll, eyebrows creasing as he frowned.

 

The kids were still hounding his student, and Minato cleared his throat.

 

The Godaime had left his “story” to be decided at Minato’s own discretion. There was no use in hiding his identity from Konoha- even civilians had decorum about matters such as these- not that he could recall a situation that had even a passing similarity to his. Regardless, they were at war- Konoha didn’t look, didn’t sound like it was in a good state. Danzo would be finding use for him soon, and recovering a shinobi who’d had a flee-on-sight order placed on his head would surely be enough to give Konoha a little breathing space. If he was being sent out again, soon, hiding his identity was a pointless endeavour. Broadcasting it was out of the question, naturally, but it filtering out was not a bad idea. Either way, the shinobi in front of him were his team now, and lying to them, unless completely necessary, was out of the question.

 

“My name is Namikaze Minato,” he said, voice calm and steady. “Your Sensei knows me as you know her- I was her Jounin instructor.”

 

Kiba snorted, looking from one of the Jounin to the other. “You’re kidding, right? Sensei’s older than you!” He was stopped from continuing as the girl of the team smacked him upside the head and he stumbled forward. 

 

“What was that for, you crazy bitch!?”

 

“Don’t imply things about a woman’s _age, idiot.”_ The girl sniffed, crossing her arms. “Please carry on, Namikaze-san, my teammate is a little ignorant on social etiquette.” She glared at the boy again, and Minato chuckled.

 

Somewhat of a spitfire, then.

 

The third member of the team decided to speak. “As misguided as he was in his attempts,” the boy started, “Kiba had a point. You do seem a great deal younger than our Sensei, and the mission scroll states you’ve been out of the village for many years. You are not wearing a henge- my insects detect nothing.”

 

 _Clearly something doesn’t add up,_ was left unsaid.   

 

Minato glanced at Rin. The woman was staring back. Her lips were pursed in a half-pout, eyebrows drawn slightly over eyes that were as dispassionate as they could be, nose upturned just a smidgeon. She was upset, trying adamantly to hide it behind a stoic mask- the girl of thirteen shadowed every line of her expression. He’d seen that look more than once- usually when Kakashi had said something insensitive without realising. Rin’s posture was forcibly relaxed; Minato could see the tremor of her right hand. It wasn’t fooling him or her students for a minute- the Inuzuka’s dog was glancing between the two Jounin with its ears flattened, and he could hear the faint buzz of the Aburame’s bugs getting... antsy.

 

Heaving a sigh, Minato turned his attention fully back to the Chunin on the field.

 

“You’re right; I am ‘younger’ than your Sensei- but that wasn’t always the case. I am- I _was_ \- her Jounin instructor. We were assigned a mission in the Third Shinobi War, and my team and I had to split up. I have a Jutsu that I use- it’s Space/Time based-”

 

Minato didn’t have to be a Jounin to notice the sudden interested glint in Kiba’s eyes.

 

“-and something went wrong with it in an altercation with Iwa. I haven’t seen your Sensei- or Konoha, since.”

 

“The Third Shinobi War concluded almost two decades ago,” Shino said.

 

“You don’t look like you’ve aged two decades, either,” Kiba added, eyes narrowed. “I mean, there’s looking underneath the underneath, but... where exactly _were_ you?”

 

“He was now,” Rin answered. At Kiba’s questioning look, she decided to elaborate. “The question you should be asking is _when_ was he. He was _now_ \- here.”

 

Sakura was the first to grasp what her Sensei was getting at. “ _Time travel?”_

 

“It would seem so.”

 

There was quiet, and then-

 

“Konoha’s Yellow Flash,” she breathed.

 

Along with the Legendary Three, the Professor and God of Shinobi, and the White Fang, the Yellow Flash had been a name whispered about, revered, on the academy playground. There were whole classes dedicated to analysing what he’d done in the war, how much Konoha had invested in him before his disappearance, and Iwa’s claims about the whole situation. Konoha’s progress in that war had largely been sitting on the shoulders of the man in front of her. With the Jutsu that had been fabled to have slaughtered platoons of shinobi in seconds, and struck fear right into the heart of Iwa. With his disappearance, morale had fallen and Konoha’s luck had begun to falter.

 

She _knew_ his name had sounded familiar.

 

“Yes.”

 

The Inuzuka was staring at him slack-jawed, and Minato resisted the urge to shift from foot to foot under the scrutiny of the combined gazes.

 

“Now that Namikaze-san has introduced himself,” Rin said, cutting off a further inquisition, “how about you three do the same?”

 

“Inuzuka Kiba”, Kiba said, pointing at himself. “And this is my buddy, Akamaru.”

 

“Haruno Sakura.”

 

“Aburame Shino.”

 

And that was that. After having run through some basic training exercises and reminding them of the mission’s S-Rank status, which meant no discussing the inner details of what they’d heard with those outside the team, Rin sent them on their way for the day.

 

“We’re meeting here again at noon tomorrow,” she said. “You can have this time to familiarise yourself with the village, again. I doubt the Hokage wants you hiding away- he would have told you to keep out of sight, otherwise. You should go see him, though- he asked that you report to him once we’re done.”

 

“Maybe a little later,” Minato said.

 

Rin nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” She turned and began walking from the training field with measured, firm steps. Minato stood alone, watching her retreating back for a moment, before turning away.

 

He had things to do.

 

**† † †**

 

The buzz of the village had long since faded out behind him as he travelled to where most of the Uchiha had resided. Unlike the Hyuuga, the Uchiha did not deign to house all their clan in one compound- they had deemed it a tactical issue to house all their members in one area. As influential as they had been for such a long-standing, noble clan, they hadn’t, to Minato’s knowledge, exerted a level of control over their family members like the aforementioned Hyuuga had, either. The clan head, Fugaku, had, however, lived in the main estate, surrounded by a few other small families, and it was to his residence that Minato was travelling. Having been informed of what had become of Fugaku’s sons, the visit was long overdue, though that was hardly something that Minato could have helped.  

 

He dreaded to think how the meeting would go. He didn’t have to be an expert on social conventions to think _“Long time no see, Fugaku-san, sorry to hear about your sons betraying the village,”_ made a terrible icebreaker. _“How’s your wife, Fugaku? My girlfriend’s dead, you know.”_ Minato shook his head, ignoring the nausea beginning to stir in his belly. He supposed he’d have to play the whole conversation by ear.  

 

Stepping through the gate that separated the compound from the village, Minato was immediately struck by how much _larger_ it was. The walls had been pushed forwards, new houses erected in neat rows.

 

Of course, not a second later, the next thing to strike his attention was the disarray of the immediate vicinity, from the cracks in the walls, to the dust grubbing up the metallic tiles of the fountains, and broken glass in the windows. The silence pervaded every corner of the living area, life signs limited to insects and the birds that had nested in the roof gutter of a nearby house.

 

Proceeding quietly, Minato walked onwards¸ hand hovering by his holster. He didn’t detect anything hostile, but situations were prone to changing within seconds.

 

Memory guided him through the compound in the direction he remembered Fugaku and Mikoto’s house to be, as he finally emerged into an area he recognised.

 

The home of the clan head was in a bigger state of ruin than rest of the compound, windows shattered and walls blackened as if they’d once been aflame. Pushing on the door, Minato was unsurprised when it easily gave way. It carved a path through the dust covered floor within the house, and Minato stepped inside.

 

Silence.

 

No different from the rest of the compound, Minato’s travel through the building turned up naught but more dust. The interior was frozen in time, the grime sitting on items that had long since felled and remained unmoved.

 

He was about to enter the bedroom when he heard footfalls further back in the house. He froze, but the footsteps easily followed his own path through the building, an ANBU operative emerging from around the corner down the hall.

 

“Namikaze-san.” A soft voice, a female voice, slightly hardened by the monotonous tone that all ANBU seemed to employ. Her porcelain mask almost appeared to glow in the darkness, the markings on it half-indistinguishable.

 

“ANBU-san.”

 

The shinobi inclined her head. “It may have escaped your attention, but this compound is out of bounds for the time being.”

 

 _Ah...._  

 

“What happened here?”

 

“It would be best explained by Hokage-sama. I understand you’re to have a meeting with him now?” She gestured back the way she had come. “I’d be happy to escort you, Namikaze-san.”

 

 _Happy to escort me, are you?_ Minato didn’t have to work hard to keep a look of disbelief off of his face, his features schooling easily into a neutral mask.  The ANBU was forcing him off the property.

 

He was going to meet with the Hokage, regardless, the earlier trip would just provide him with answers.

 

It was only while leaving the compound that Minato chanced a glance up and caught sight of the fourth face carved on the monument, fitting snugly between those of the Sandaime and Godaime. Despite his current annoyance, his eyebrow quirked; he knew those eyes well- he’d certainly been in the man’s company enough while still being trained directly by his own Sensei, Jiraiya. Compared to the two surrounding it, Orochimaru’s face was full of youth, even if the impassive expression immortalised on the rock was a jarring difference to the smirk Minato was accustomed to seeing on the man’s face.

 

For all his genius, he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised at the village’s choice for the title of Yondaime. He had to wonder what had become of the Snake Sannin, however; if a Godaime had had to be appointed...

 

**† † †**

 

_“Did you hear- the Yellow Flash- the Yellow Flash- he’s back! He’s alive!”_

_“But Iwa-?”_

_“You’re lying- he’s long dead, stop fuelling the rumour mill, Matsuda, it’s getting annoying.”_

_“He’s back!”_

_“-Seen leaving the Hokage tower-”_

_“-Seen with Nohara-san’s team- you know he was her Sensei, right?”_

_“As if he’d dare show his face now- if he really was alive, then he would have been fighting that war with us. You calling the Yellow Flash a deserter? Are you?”_

_“-Seen leaving the Uchiha compound!”_

_“The Yellow Flash- alive!”_

_“The Yellow Flash... alive?”_

_“Where was he during the war?”_

_“Where was he when we were fighting?”_

_“Where **was** he?”_

_“Alive?”_

_“Where-?”_

 

**† † †**

  

Minato had earlier thought that Uchiha Itachi would be a name he’d have to remember. Now, however, he doubted that the name would ever be forgotten. It would be seared into his mind forever more.

 

Uchiha Itachi, the man who had massacred his clan. The clan of Minato’s _dead_ , student. The clan who’s matriarch was one of Kushina’s closest friends. The clan that had been with Konoha since its founding.

 

Uchiha Itachi had been fifteen years of age.

 

The man had murdered his mother, his father, and near everyone else before alarms had been raised. Out of a clan that had comprised of almost three-hundred, there were less than twenty left, two of which- Itachi and his younger brother, Sasuke- were now registered as rogue ninja. Seven of the remaining seventeen were on active duty, a majority of those holding the rank of Chunin and Genin. Two of the seven were Jounin, one of those having been grievously injured having discovered and confronted Itachi while he was culling his kin. The remaining members, six women and four men, were civilians or retired, spread throughout the village, no longer in one clan compound. The Uchiha were a noble clan no more. 

 

After numbly asking why the clan had been in one main district to begin with, for they had always maintained that to be a security risk, Danzo had brought up the Kyuubi attack, the loss of numerous members of their clan in Konoha’s defence, and the mentality of safety in numbers.

 

For all the _good_ it had done them.

 

Minato had been let out of the office not too soon after that, following a quick debriefing on his day and decisions.

 

**† † †**

 

It was later that night that Minato finally met with some old friends. They had been the furthest thing from his mind at the time- he was still mulling over how one man, or rather, how one fifteen year old _child_ had managed to single-handedly decimate almost his entire clan.

 

He had been walking, thoughts elsewhere, with the squawks of surprised villagers accompanying him, when someone had rushed him, coming up fast in his peripheral vision. Throwing off their balance with a strike to the back of their knees, the long-haired blond had toppled. Minato had been reaching for a kunai- _enemies in Konoha?-_ when his body had suddenly frozen to the spot.

 

“Shadow Imitation Technique... A success.”

 

_What-? Shadow Imitation... a Nara?_

 

He hadn’t even seen the unnatural darkness moving in on him in a street where shadows were thrown into sharp relief by lanterns that lined the pathway. His gaze had been preoccupied with the thought of attack and he hadn’t seen the black coil slithering across the street. The man on the floor, (he looked so _familiar)_ , was picking himself up now, moving towards Minato with a grim expression on his face. A hand grasped his chin, forcing his head this way and that before he stepped back, fingers set in a very familiar seal.

 

_Yamanaka-_

 

“Sto-”

  

_-His father ruffled his hair on his entry to the academygraduation day he wished his mother was there to seeKushina wanted to be Hokageher hair was growing longer and with that shade she really did look like a tomato not that he’d tell her thatagainhis nose had yet to healKakashi’s pout was obvious even through the mask “dogs are better than toads, Sensei”Kushina came closer and closer eyes fluttering shuthis hand fingered the strands of her hair and“got something in your eyes again, Obito”“Rin don’t let them bother you”Hiraishin if he’d been anyone else he would have sworn that tree wasn’t therered red red “Kakashi?” a sword “I’m sorry Sakumo”-_

 

“It’s him.”

 

Minato was released from the shadow hold as a hand clapped him heartily on the back, making his knees buckle.

 

“So the rumours are true, then?” Choza nodded. “You _are_ back. It’s been too long, Minato-kun.”

 

“We apologise.” Inoichi smiled, stepping forward. “We had to be sure that it was you. Your memories don’t lie.”

 

Minato blinked, clearing his mind of misplaced memories. His hand drifted to the back of his neck. Inoichi had been in his head. _In his head._ He had intruded on his memories, his privacy, be it for seconds or not, it was not something that sat well with him.

 

“The Hokage's word wasn’t enough?” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded rougher than had been intended.

 

They had his DNA after all.

 

“You escaped the T&I department before a Yamanaka could get a look at you, Minato,” the blond said easily. “It was just a precaution- we’re at war... there’s no such thing as being overly cautious. And besides, what’s such a greeting between old friends?” He held out his hand.

 

Minato eyed it. He couldn’t fault them for being suspicious, not really. He knew he would have been. Trepidation bleeding from his veins, he reached up and grasped Inoichi’s hand in a firm grip. “...Nothing to it at all.”

 

Silence.

 

 _Awkward_ silence.

 

“Come drink with us, Minato-kun,” Choza suddenly boomed.

 

Minato had no choice but to comply as he was bodily dragged away.

 

**† † †**

 

Minato had kept pace with Shikaku as Choza and Inoichi ploughed on ahead. It was a trip he’d made before, only the last time, the four of them were in line as Inoichi gestured grandly while he talked of an achievement or three he’d completed. He found the now march to the bar akin to walking to an execution rather than a meet with old (new?) friends. The tension was there, just under the surface.

 

It took a few drinks before it began to ease away.

 

“Truly a troublesome situation.” Shikaku liberated the last of the liquid in the saucer in front of him. Inoichi and Choza nodded in unison. Minato sat opposite them, elbow resting on the table, face cupped by his hand as he surveyed his old friends. Old, both in a literal and metaphorical sense.

 

Because his friends were _old._

 

Their faces were showing the signs of weather, lines having been etched where they’d never been previously. They had grown into their bodies, no lingering traces of the end of their adolescence holding onto them.

 

They were older in body and in mind, Minato thought, as he took a sip of his drink. Sure, Choza still praised things to culinary heaven, Inoichi joked, and Shikaku complained, but they were married now. They had children. They shared stories and a history that Minato was not included in and had no part in shaping. It was a barrier as clear as the table between them, just like it had been with Rin.

 

They were _his_ generation, his peers, and they were old. They had grown without him, and though he was there, he had been left behind.

 

He wondered how he looked to them. Did they see him as a child? With their talks of wives and children, he felt like one. He’d never been one to feel self-conscious; do or do not, let people think what they please, but he couldn’t help but think this was different.

 

Surveying the trio opposite, a small smile playing on his lips at their antics, (Choza had valiantly offered the last cracker the bar had provided them with to Inoichi, who had just as valiantly snapped it in two and offered his friend the bigger half), Minato wondered if he were perhaps over-thinking it all.  Kushina had told him it was something that he was prone to doing and that admission would usually be accompanied by a slap upside the head. His reflexes always tended to fail when she was around.

 

 _Kushina_. Dead.

 

He swallowed, lowering the drink. Clearly he’d put back more to drink than he’d thought. It was best not to think about such things, not yet. _If you had only been there_ , Guilt started, _and if you made your way here, there must be a way back_.

 

A hand waving in front of his face broke him from any further thoughts.

 

“Still with us, Minato?”

 

“Yes.”

 

They didn’t look convinced, and Minato cleared his throat.

 

“Kushina,” he said. “Would any of you be able to tell me what exactly happened to Kushina? Danzo- Godaime-sama said she’d died in the Kyuubi attack- but he didn’t elaborate.”

 

Their gazes were pinning him now.

 

“I need to know.”

 

It was Choza who finally spoke, voice gravelly in its hush.

 

“It was the Kyuubi, Minato-kun. But it was a strange occurrence. Unexpected. There was no warning, no way it could have been predicted. On that night, the Kyuubi appeared in the northern district of Konoha-”

 

“What do you mean ‘ _appeared’?”_ Minato asked, eyes narrowing.

 

“It means that one minute the night was quiet, the next the temperature skyrocketed and the Kyuubi was raging through Konoha.” Inoichi sighed. “Kushina’s district was the first to go- they didn’t- Minato, there wasn’t- there wasn’t much of her body left to be found. Her house was completely destroyed.”

 

“Save for the gate,” Minato murmured.

 

“Save for the gate...”

 

Silence.

 

“And it just appeared?”  

  

Choza reached across the table to settle a hand on his shoulder. Minato looked up. “Then what happened to the Kyuubi?”

 

“Sandaime-sama defeated it.”

 

“...Defeated the Kyuubi?” The Kyuubi of legend. Minato had heard of it. Its history was tied intimately with that of Konoha’s founding. It was fabled to be able to destroy mountains, cause earthquakes, tsunamis, with a flick of one of its many tails.

 

Shikaku’s eyes were shuttered now- hiding something- the expression secure, but giving him away. Minato had seen that look birthed before it has become what it now was.

 

“So it... retreated?”

 

“The Sandaime defeated it.”

 

“So what happened to it, then?” Minato pressed.

 

Inoichi shrugged. “We wouldn’t be able to tell you.”

 

 _Wouldn’t or couldn’t?_ He stared at the men seated opposite.

 

Choza cleared his throat as the silence fought to descend once again. “We really should be going, Minato-kun,” he said, glancing at the clock perched atop the bar. “My wife’ll be going spare.”

 

“At least she’s not as bad as _mine,_ ” Shikaku grumbled. “Troublesome woman.”

 

“Thank the Gods neither of you have _daughters._ ” Inoichi shook his head. 

 

It appeared to be the beginning of a debate they’d had many times before, Minato noticed.

 

The men got to their feet.

 

“I take it you have somewhere to stay?” Inoichi suddenly asked, eyes back on Minato. “If not-”

 

“No- I- it’s fine,” he said, waving them off. “I have a place to stay- don’t worry about me.”

 

They nodded. “It really is good seeing you again, Minato-kun,” Choza said, patting him on the back. “Don’t worry about your drinks, it’s my tab today. It’s the least I can do... We’ll be seeing you again.” After heading to the bar to clear the issue of payment, they left. The door creaked shut behind them and Minato drained the last of his drink. He turned to the bar staff who’d ambled up to him. It wasn’t like he was paying...

 

“Another, please.”

 

The man at the bar set yet another drink down on the table with a soft _clunk._ What a sad state of affairs it was, to be drinking alone. His sensei wouldn’t be pleased. He hoped Jiraiya would be back in the village soon.

 

He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there before someone slid down into a seat further across in the room. Hair so dark it seemed to absorb the light present around him and an Uchiha crest adorning his back. One of the few Sharingan wielders left in the village, then.

 

As if sensing the meditative gaze on his back, the man turned fully to face Minato, eyebrow raised. The expression was thrown by the _eye patch_ the man wore, the strings disappearing under a well-kept mop of wavy hair. Minato looked away. He supposed being an Uchiha marked you a lot of staring nowadays.

 

Minato stared back into his drink. Half empty. His lips quirked and he downed it in one shot. Rolling his neck, he sighed, stood, and ambled out of the bar. He had nothing left to gain by staying any longer.

 

**† † †**

 


	5. Chapter 5 - From Bad...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: 'Naruto' is the property of Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Viz Media, TV Tokyo, and other associated parties. I claim no ownership of the franchise, characters or settings, nor am I affiliated with the above parties in any way. The following is a fan-work, written for my amusement, and not for material or monetary gain. Please support the official releases. (I don't own this).

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**† † †**

**FastForward**

**Chapter 5: From Bad...**

By Payce D. Elui

**† † †**

_But you do the job that's in front of you, or people die._

\- Terry Pratchett

**† † †**

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The next day heralded Minato's awakening to the sound of a quiet tap against his window, accompanied by a small flare of chakra. The ANBU's mask seemed to glow in the pre-dawn lighting. He held a summons from the Hokage in his hand.

Minato had been spending far too much time in the Hokage's office as of late, for his liking. Still, he had arrived at the tower not ten minutes later, Team Seven meeting him at its base. They didn't look nearly as rough-faced as they should have been, having been awakened before dawn, so he supposed it was a regular occurrence.

Danzo had met them with a cool stare.

"I had hoped to keep you away from active missions for a time yet," Danzo murmured. "But it cannot be helped. I'll be assigning your team an A-ranked sabotage mission, three days from now."

"What are the mission parameters, Hokage-sama?" Rin asked.

"As you well know, Suna's main export is steel- they are the main supplier for most of the other nations, who support them because of this. It's time that support comes to an end- Suna are angling to end the ceasefire that was established only weeks ago- ridding them of their allies would be an important step if we are to resume fighting and end this once and for all.

"Intelligence suggests that Ame has ordered large quantities of steel. It's due to be delivered in four days. What they've ordered it for, however, is unknown. Ame has been silent on all fronts for years, but if they're allying up with Suna, we must put a stop to it.

"Your mission is to sabotage that shipment. We don't, however, want to publicise Konoha's involvement. If Ame is to become more active, we don't want to be the targets of their anger; not yet."

"That's it?" Kiba asked, surprised. "No survivors, then?"

"Not quite," Danzo replied, lips in a thin line. "Suna seems to have suspected that we'd get involved. As such, they've charged Team Baki with escorting the trading caravans on their journey."

Minato looked between the suddenly pinched faces with interest.

"You want my team to face Gaara of the Desert... in the _desert?_ " Rin was hesitant. "I would have thought the mission be better suited to Gai's team- he and his student were the only ones fast enough to challenge that boy's Jutsu last time."

"Sensei-"

"Quiet, Kiba!" Rin's tone was not one to be argued with, and the boy's mouth shut with an audible snap.

"Necessity, Nohara-san." Danzo's gaze flickered to Minato. "And while they may not match up to Gaara's speed, _he_ most certainly will."

Minato blinked.

"Well?"

Rin cast a look back at her students, still visibly concerned at the sudden turn. Sakura was pale to the point of looking sickly, while Kiba was practically vibrating with excitement. Shino was much the same from what she could tell, only a lot more reserved about it.

"Won't the sabotage of a shipment meant to create bonds between Suna and Ame point right back at us?" Minato suddenly asked. "Konoha's the only ones who have something to gain from sour relations between those two."

"It's a risk that has to be taken," Danzo replied, acid tingeing his words. "With Iwa also looking for any reason to draw the line under our truce, _Minato-_ san, Konoha doesn't need any more enemies. Ame will either join with Suna through a truce, or they will join their effort on discovering our input into the situation. Or...they may remain neutral, or even sympathetic to Konoha's cause, believing Suna to have betrayed them. They've been out of touch with politics for years, thanks to that fool Hanzo. This is an action we _cannot_ afford to avoid. Is that clear?"

When putting it like that, his own fault laid on the table, "Yes, Hokage-sama."

"Nohara-san?"

"Come on, Sensei!" Kiba snapped. "This is our chance to _finally_ do something that actually means something to Konoha. You heard Hokage-sama, we could turn Ame against Suna- it's important!"

Rin could feel the imploring gazes of the boys searing into her. She was a Jounin, she would not be cowed by children... but Rin remembered Obito and Kakashi, they had behaved much the same. She couldn't keep them as children forever and Konoha's future depended on this mission. She wondered if this was how Minato had felt so long ago.

"...Team Seven accepts this mission." What choice did they have?

"Excellent." Danzo nodded. "I'll leave the analysis on Gaara's abilities to you. You leave in three days. You're dismissed. Minato. Stay."

Kiba was the first out of the room, followed swiftly by Shino, and then a dawdling Sakura. Minato watched them go.

"Hokage-sama?"

"That boy," said Danzo. "Gaara."

"He's that dangerous?"

"He could be useful," said Danzo. "Kill him, if you must. If the opportunity arises, however… we could make use of him."

"He would turn on his village?" asked Minato, doubtfully.

"We have our ways to ensure compliance. Remember that, Minato."

With that final statement, Minato was dismissed. He caught up to Rin outside the tower, matching her pace step for step. He could see she was worried.

"They'll be fine, Rin; you've taught them well."

"Worked wonders for your team, didn't it?" she retorted. She averted her eyes. More quietly, "You should prepare for the mission." She began to walk away.

"Oh- and Nam-Minato-sa… sensei," she suddenly called back. "I'll meet you tomorrow morning to discuss your part."

And then she was gone in a swirl of leaves.

 

**† † †**

 

Minato's first day of preparation was spent visiting the blacksmiths for an order of three-pronged kunai. It had been a business he had visited often, before, and he had blinked in belated surprise at yet another small change. The man who had used to work in the shop had been replaced at some point by his son taking up the family business; the boy's father had died a few years prior from injuries that had plagued him dating back to the Kyuubi attack sixteen years prior. Luckily for Minato, the shop still had a copy of the designs of his kunai, (the previous owner had kept hold of them as a relic after Minato went missing), and as such, he was promised a set of fifty to be ready for pick-up the next day at noon. Minato, previously worried about payment, was able to purchase by paying with an advance on the next mission.

Upon leaving the blacksmiths, he had begun to grow wary of the looks that were being thrown his way. The first day it had been surprise, but he couldn't help but feel like it was beginning to become more insidious. Whispers were still being passed behind the backs of hands, but the words sounded sharper, and were abruptly cut off when his gaze was flicked their way. Their hands would drop, but the odd one or two would have a sneer or defiant glare to throw back at him.

Feeling completely at a loss for not the first instance since he had come to this time, he put it to the back of his mind. He couldn't recall ever doing something to upset these people, not unless they'd heard about the more recent events that took place with the Iwa parade, and if that was the case, the glares, he supposed, were deserved. They had yet to turn him into a pariah like they had with Sakumo, so he supposed that counted for something. He'd just have to do his best to make sure Konoha came out of the more recent events unscathed.

Later that day, he sat in his apartment pondering what Rin had told him on Gaara's abilities. She had debriefed him with a surprising amount of detail- Gaara of the Desert, along with his team of siblings had been one of the main forces behind the invasion of Konoha three years ago, as the Chunin exams drew to a close.

Gaara had been one of the most dangerous with his control over sand. He had been pushed back by the combined efforts of Konoha's forces, but had still managed to leave a trail of bodies in his wake, his Jutsu thwarting every attempt to put an end to him. It had been almost impossible to touch him, Rin had said. Every move was intercepted by the sand, which seemed almost sentient. Gai and his student Rock Lee had only begun to land hits on releasing the Gates, and enough of them had Gaara fleeing.

From the information given to him by Rin, it wasn't difficult for Minato to deduce that speed and surprise was the key to beating the boy. He'd seen the shinobi's reactions first hand when watching a video recording of the second task that Rin had given to him. The boy had cocooned his opponent, a shinobi from Kumo, in a layer of sand, and crushed him. He had laughed while doing so.

The shinobi himself had not looked so troublesome to deal with. His Jutsu, however... If his sand was keeping Gaara protected, Minato would make sure the boy couldn't react fast enough to even put up a shield.

 

**† † †**

 

His second day of preparation took Minato back to the blacksmiths. With twelve of _his_ kunai sitting safely in his holster, the rest hidden behind a _working_ storage seal on the inside flap, (he'd checked), he was feeling a lot more secure as he walked the streets of Konoha, despite the looks now almost constantly being thrown his way. It was not from all of the populace, he noted. He'd crossed paths with a few of the older Jounin in the village as he'd walked. They'd pulled him to the side, despite the somewhat hostile mutterings around them, and greeted him with fervour. On those occasions, however, Minato would be left standing awkwardly, floundering to find names for the faces that he hadn't known so well twenty years prior.

Treating himself to some ramen from Kushina's favourite restaurant, Ichiraku's, Minato was pleased when the owners welcomed him with a smile that didn't belay some hidden feeling.

It was when the owner, Teuchi, began on his condolences that his balance was thrown yet again. Teuchi had liked Kushina rather a lot, had even made Minato smile around noodles that had suddenly lost their flavour as he'd told a story of a time she'd visited after his disappearance and dumped a bowl on someone who had been becoming a little too leery for her liking.

" _I told you I'm waiting for someone, 'ttebane! Now get lost!"_

Minato had thanked the man for the meal, (on the house on the condition that he visited again sometime soon), and began on his trek back through Konoha once again.

Completely skirting around the Uchiha district, the heat of the day was beginning to cool when he swung around to the area in which Kushina had used to live. _I just have to see._ Setting himself on a bench that faced the house from across the green stretched out before it, he tuned out the buzz, watching passersby with as much intensity as they were watching him. He found that they were less inclined to hold his gaze, and would leave not too soon after his eyes alighted on them. Not that he minded.

The house remained silent for an hour after he'd settled down before two children carrying rucksacks had run up to the path, a tired looking woman following. The kids were nattering about the academy, greeting their father with a hug when he approached from the other end of the street.

_Could that have been us?_

They looked like nice people. He supposed that was all he could ask for.

Satisfied, Minato left before they caught sight of him.

 

**† † †**

 

It was after a second uncomfortable encounter with the Ino-Shika-Cho team, (this time with their wives in tow), that Minato finally made his way to Konoha's main library. The building was one of the oldest in Konoha, actually built by the Shodai Hokage himself during the founding of the village. The shelves were lined with scrolls and books and knowledge enough to enlighten anyone who'd happen to pick up a tome.

Minato drifted straight to the Fuinjutsu section, (after clearing up some initial confusion about the change in layout over the years). He'd borrowed half of the library's advanced books on the subject, to the librarian's delight, (the library really wasn't in much use as of late). But it hadn't been as easy as that. Not an hour after he'd reached his apartment he'd been summoned to the Hokage's office yet again, face blank.

"I'd like to know more about how I came to be here," he said in explanation. "Seals got me here-"

"And you're thinking of reversing this?" Danzo's sharp tone cut him off.

He really was a shrewd old man, though Minato wouldn't have expected any less from a Hokage.

"No," he said, voice measured, _not yet_. "I want to know enough about how the situation came about so I can avoid it happening again."

Danzo's eyes had him rooted to the spot. The man was seeing right through him, but Minato did not waiver.

"Keep me informed."

An order.

"And Minato... those books do not leave Konoha. Is that clear?"

"Yessir."

Minato was dismissed.

He did not imagine the ANBU presence outside of his apartment that night.

 

**† † †**

 

It was well before dawn on the third day that Minato left his small apartment, locking it up and starting on the road to Konoha's gates, knapsack in hand. It was a spur of the moment decision he'd made to take a detour to the Hokage's monument on his way. It would be nice to see the view. Something to remember the village by while he was away. Flashing to the solitary seal still sitting on the Sandaime's head, his eyes passed over the sleeping village, and he sighed. Konoha was quiet in its slumber. It was a nice change from the noise he now constantly found himself surrounded in, and he resolved to visit the Sandaime more often.

_Tuhk. Thuk. Thuk._

He looked around.

_What...?_

Following the strange sound a little further across the monument, he was on the Yondaime's crown when he saw the pike crudely grounded there, jutting from the ancient earth in defiance. A rope was tied firmly around it, paint buckets settled alongside.

Needless to say, the shinobi at the end of the cord was mighty surprised when the rope to which he was attached was hoisted up. Minato loomed over him, eyebrow raised at the paint and paintbrush the boy was holding. The boy wasted no time, however, promptly jabbing the painting utensil like a skewer at Minato, (who deftly dodged), and cutting himself loose, going into a freefall over the mountain face.

"Hey-!" Minato leapt after him.

If the boy had to be attached to the rope while he was indulging in his extra-curricular activities, Minato didn't find it an unreasonable assumption to believe that he probably couldn't wall-walk with chakra. He was proved wrong, however, as he saw the boy stick to the mountain face, (on Orochimaru's chin, no less, with force enough to make some of it crumble), not a second later. The boy was running full speed now, his long green scarf and the excess cloth of his hitai-ate flapping frantically at his tail. He'd just hit the floor when Minato managed to catch hold of the flowing fabric, fingers grasping the soft material like metal vices. He pulled the boy back, round, and grasped his shoulders.

"What were you thinking?"

The boy scowled. "Let me go! It's not like the bastard didn't deserve it!"

Who 'the bastard' was was made abundantly clear as Minato glanced up, feeling a few droplets of paint dribbling into his hair from above. Yondaime Hokage Orochimaru's likeness had been completely defaced, paints in multitudes of colours scrawled across his features in violent arcs and crude symbols. The rest of the faces had been left untouched.

Removing himself from the target radius of any more spatter to spare himself added damage, Minato glanced back at the boy.

"Why would you do that? You're a Konoha shinobi, are you not? I don't need to tell you that that's the Hokage monument."

It was quite unsettling, really. The boy hadn't been laughing, nor joking, as he would have been had this just been some sort of harmless prank. There was nothing but cold anger, (childish) rage in his eyes as they refused to break contact with Minato's. The kind of anger that rolled inside oneself, ready to be thrown out at a moment's notice.

"Why are you so angry?"

The boy struggled in his grip and Minato set him down, backing away slightly. With the tag now seared into his scarf, it was doubtful the boy would get far, even if he did somehow manage to slip away.

"Why would I do that? Do you know who I- don't you know what- what that man _did_?" Self righteous barely contained fury. In a shinobi, that really wasn't a healthy sign, not in one so young.

At Minato's silence, the boy snorted in disgust. "Have you been living under a rock or something?" Loosening the scarf around his neck so it was no longer taut, the boy's eyes were cold as he stared at Minato with disdain.

"My name is _Sarutobi_ Konohamaru," he said.

_A relation of the Sandaime's?_ Minato kept his face perfectly blank, save for the twitch of an eyebrow that slowly arched upwards.

"Wouldn't your grandfather be disappointed with how you're acting?"

If the boy's expression was stony before, it hardened to diamond. Konohamaru turned away. "I wouldn't know. _He_ killed him."

Minato's mouth went dry. _What...?_

" _He_ is the reason my grandfather is dead. _He_ killed my uncle, and he attacked my village. He deserves everything he gets. I don't even know why they still keep his face up there." He sounded disgusted.

He turned back to Minato. Eyes so young shouldn't have been so calculating.

"I will kill him. For now I'll settle for removing every damn trace of him from this village- repeatedly- if I have to. He doesn't deserve to occupy the same space as my grandfather. Keep that in mind next time." He began walking away, tension radiating from every stiff movement he made.

Minato watched him go, quashing the urge to stop him before it took off, and finally turned back to the monument. The eyes of the Hokage stared back at him and across the village.

_His own teacher... his Hokage... what happened?_ Orochimaru's likeness was no longer benevolent under Konohamaru's adjustments. _Sensei did always say that Orochimaru was twisted,_ he thought, slowly turning away from the monument to head back to the gates of the village. _Your own student... I'm sorry, Sandaime-sama._

 

**† † †**

 

Rin and Team Seven had arrived at the designated meeting sport just slightly after Minato made his way there, Kiba mumbling something about _Sensei visiting a cenotaph_ before inquiring in a loud voice as to why Minato had paint in his hair. The man just shook his head, the team hushing when Rin cleared her throat.

"All right, Team Seven, Minato-san, you remember the mission set by Hokage-sama. We're sabotaging a trade shipment between Suna and Ame. We're to make it look like Suna's reneging on their deal – when the mission is complete, if all goes as it should, there will be no more trust between the two. Minato-san, after we neutralise the traders and accompanying shinobi, moving the shipment will be in your hands – your sealing expertise will be needed there."

Minato nodded.

"I assume you've come up with a plan to deal with Gaara, then?" she continued. They had talked about it at their last meeting, but in a small amount of detail.

"Yes, I'm sure you were thinking along the same lines I was, though. Rin, this... Gaara needs to be dealt with first. The best course of action would be a surprise attack, then, though surprising a shinobi who is capable of controlling the sand itself while we're in the desert is difficult. You said that the sand possessed some sort of sentience?"

"It would move to intercept attacks even when we were sure Gaara couldn't see them," said Sakura.

"I don't doubt that he'd sense us before we attacked then, especially if he can use the sand over a long range."

"He doesn't possess control over all sand, though," Sakura reminded. "Just the sand of his sand armour and in his gourd."

"That was what the information said," Minato allowed. "But that information is outdated. The Leaf gathered it in the Chunin exams, yes? We don't know the parameters of his Jutsu, not now, not when every team who faced him in this war had been eradicated without trace. We can't afford to safely assume anything- particularly when your Sensei informed me of the destruction he caused by creating his _own_ supply of sand."

"No, you're right..."

"So what are you saying we should do, then?" Kiba demanded.

"I've been examining more recent maps of the desert- there's a-"

"-Long stretch of rocky land towards the edge of the desert between Suna and Ame because of the fighting there are the end of the last war between Iwa and Suna," Rin murmured. "Porter's Pass. You want to change the ambush area. The closer we are to Ame, the higher chance we have of alerting them to our actions."

"Ame's security is closer to the village itself, and the land where I believe we should set up the ambush is still in Wind Country."

Rin pursed her lips, glancing over her team. "It is closer to Ame then I would have liked, but it does propose a higher chance of success... and it was something I considered myself, there's a valley ideal for it." She thought it over for a moment longer, before nodding. "All right, it's settled. That's where we'll set up the ambush, I have a plan in mind for that, but I'll explain it there. Kiba, you and Akamaru will be playing a key role-"

The boy pumped his fist in the air.

"And now for Team Baki..."

Shino finally spoke, "I will fight Kankuro. I owe him a rematch, and my Jutsu works well as a counter to his puppetry."

"And Gaara is my responsibility," Minato said, straightening up.

"That leaves Baki, Temari and the traders. Baki is their Jounin instructor, so he'll be my responsibility. Sakura, Kiba, as we went through before, that leaves Temari and the traders to you. Can you handle it?"

Kiba scowled. "Of course I can!"

"Yes, Sensei." Sakura nodded, also straightening up. "We'll be fine. The biggest problem will be drawing Temari into close combat, but once I'm done with the traders, Kiba and I will figure something out."

"It's settled, then."

Minato watched their faces harden in determination. Sakura's jade eyes were flinty, Kiba smirked, and Shino's collar seemed to have drawn up even further. So different, but his own team looked back at him.

"Let's move out."

 

**† † †**

 

The trip to the rocky plateau went without a hitch, the team passing across River country and manoeuvring north from the edge of Wind towards Porter's Pass. The team moved into place at an area that was roughly a mile away from the edge of the fine sand that blanketed most of Wind Country.

The rock towered high above them, slick from years of being worn down by rough winds. The valley was where they'd made their camp. The deeper recesses of the valley were shielded from the winds that battered the desert at night, and offered shade from the searing heat of the day, giving simple cover to those who took refuge there. The caravan would pass through the valley on its journey, they were sure of it. While there was certainly room and area to go around the ravine, the surrounding terrain was pockmarked with unstable rock and broken ledges, the valley holding the only smooth passage, perfect for trading caravans of almost any size. Going around it would draw out the journey, and with the majority of bodies travelling with the trading caravans being untrained civilians, the longer route was not a desirable one, not when there were shinobi hired for protection.

Minato had set a small number of Hiraishin seals in and around the valley while the rest of the team scouted the area. Even within, there were ridges and nooks, perfect for cover when the caravan eventually arrived. While the Suna team would likely be paranoid of an ambush, (in an area as perfectly suited for it as Porter's Pass, it would be foolish not to be), the plan was to attack faster than they could defend. Their targets would be willed into a sense of security before Team Seven sprung.

Kiba and Akamaru had used their _Fang Over Fang_ technique to drill a large rough hole into the ground of the mouth of the opening facing in Ame's direction. They were loosely covering it with dirt and rocks while Minato had travelled the length of the surprisingly long valley, touching seals down as he went. The valley was bare of most life, though there were trees scattered along the higher rocks, their roots fused to stone as they reached out, and bird nests perched in their upper branches. The desert was on the horizon when he reached the edge of the hard land, sand kicking up as sandstorm after sandstorm raged. There was no life to be seen, not yet. When Minato made it back, the area where Kiba's trap was set was indistinguishable from the surrounding terrain.

The team camped for the night in a small alcove hidden from view in one of the many folds of the stone. They hunched deep in sleeping bags from the chill, proximity seals dotted around them, discussing strategy until the stars had begun to fade and only he and Rin were left awake.

"I don't want them to end like our team," Rin suddenly said. She was speaking more to the embers of the dying fire than to Minato, her voice barely audible. "But I don't have a good feeling about this. That boy..." Rin trailed off.

"He's really that intimidating?"

"It's not what he can _do_ ," Rin said. "It's _him._ There's something not right with that boy." She wet her lips. "Orochimaru picks his allies well."

"...Orochimaru?"

Rin quirked an eyebrow. "... _Yes_ , Orochimaru. He conspired with Suna and helped them attack the village. It was partly because of him that it was so successful... who else would know how to destroy the village from within than a former Hokage?" Her lip curled, the embers casting dark shadows across her face, twisting her expression. "Didn't Godaime-sama tell you?"

"No... He seems to be making a habit of that." Minato rubbed his face, removing some of the grit that seemed determined to stick there thanks to the wind constantly blowing through the valley that seemed infused with it. "But I suspected something wasn't right- I had a run in with a relation of the Sandaime's-"

"-Konohamaru?"

"You know him?"

"He's the only relation the Sandaime has left."

Well that was unexpected. "What of Asuma? Biwako-san? The rest of the clan?"

Rin shook her head, looking away. A moment later, "What did the kid say?"

"He was angry. I caught him vandalising the Hokage monument." He looked for her reaction. She gave none.

"He does that."

_It's something he's done before, then._ "He said that Orochimaru killed his grandfather... and then... his uncle." And assuming the Sandaime didn't have any more children... " _Asuma._ " The connection was made. "What happened? Why is Orochimaru working against the village?"

"It's a long story," Rin said. "It's better suited coming from Hokage-sama's mouth." She paused, taking in Minato's small frown, the crease beginning between his eyebrows, and relented.

"Most of it is public knowledge, so I can't keep it from you." She scratched at her face, eyes drifting back to the campfire. "It started at the Kyuubi attack, I suppose. Sandaime-sama, Danzo and Orochimaru came up with a Jutsu to stop it before it annihilated the village."

"Inoichi said that the Sandaime defeated it."

"He did. With help from Danzo and Orochimaru. The Jutsu they created, it required one of them to sacrifice their life. I don't understand the nature of the Jutsu, exactly, the details weren't made public. But Sandaime-sama sacrificed himself for the village, the Kyuubi was gone, and Orochimaru was made Hokage." She poked at the fire, keeping it from sputtering out completely. "That was the first strike against Orochimaru in Konohamaru's eyes, I suppose, though he was very young when that happened, and I don't believe for a second that Sandaime-sama would have hesitated to put the village ahead of his life."

Minato didn't think so either. He nodded at his old student to continue.

"Konoha was recovering. It was a slow process, but we were progressing. But a few years into Orochimaru's reign as Yondaime, we noticed discrepancies; some children from prominent clans going missing. Some teams were told to keep an eye on it- and we did. The last thing Konoha needed was clan secrets being discovered by enemies. And looking into it, we noticed that children had been disappearing for a while, but it had gone unnoticed." Her fingers spasmed. "The Kyuubi left a lot of orphans behind."

_Going after the ones who wouldn't be missed..._ He leaned forward. "It was Orochimaru?"

"Years into Orochimaru's reign, the person who was taking the children was still eluding capture. We had no clues to follow; it was like the kids were just vanishing into thin air. While there were less children being taken, the problem wasn't solved, and people were panicking. We'd lost the war, we'd barely survived the Kyuubi, and then someone was taking the children. Konoha wasn't a pleasant place to be." Rin's lips quirked. "Asuma hated Orochimaru. It was probably guilt that caused the bad blood between them. Asuma and Sandaime-sama never got on- you'd probably seen that for yourself."

He had, when Asuma had been as tall as his waist. He'd never shown his father much respect. He thought the boy would have grown out of it, but apparently not. He didn't think the differences between them had been that great.

"Asuma left Konoha a few years after you disappeared. He didn't make it back before the Kyuubi attack, and the last words between he and his father weren't pleasant. And so Asuma didn't like Orochimaru, and when he did return, he was one of the shinobi who was investigating the disappearances. And somewhere down the line, I suppose he'd begun to suspect Orochimaru... Probably because he was one of the few left that suspected that the Hokage didn't have the best intentions in mind for the village." She shrugged, and Minato understood.

The Hokage was a beloved figure. Respected by all, and loved by most. Minato had seen the reverence to the Sandaime- the village had looked to him as a grandfather. To believe that the Hokage did not care, that the Hokage was capable of such a betrayal, that the person they'd all put their lives on the line for was not what they thought he was... it was inconceivable. The Hokage had to have the village in mind. It was not a mere position. To become Hokage had been Kushina's dream, and she had drilled it into him on numerous occasions during their childhood.

"Asuma started getting more and more suspicious, and he'd confided in Kurenai- a kunoichi we knew, but I don't think she really believed him, either. Then he left to follow a lead one day. He didn't come back. And a few days later, ANBU got a hold of his trail, followed it, and they found a lab. Asuma was dead- he'd been poisoned. On scouring the lab, the ANBU found it held minute traces of DNA from some of the missing children. By that point, Konohamaru was older, and had been listening to his uncle badmouth Orochimaru for a while... it all came to a head later."

"He was experimenting on the children that had been taken? And the village didn't know it was Orochimaru?" That left a bad taste in his mouth. But ANBU? Was he asking for himself to be caught? "Orochimaru sent ANBU after Asuma?"

"No, it wasn't- the village didn't know what Orochimaru had done until a few months later. And the ANBU that had been sent after Asuma- they weren't Orochimaru's. They were Danzo's."

That didn't make sense. Only the Hokage was in control of ANBU. That meant… "A private force?" asked Minato. ANBU were supposed to be solely under the jurisdiction of the Hokage. That Danzo had had a private force hidden with Konoha's elite was troubling, even if he had used them for 'good'. "That's…"

Rin gave him a short nod. It seemed she agreed with his discomfort, even if she wasn't willing to verbalise it.

"So this secret ANBU force, they…?"

"They analysed the poison," Rin continued, "and it held markers similar to a brand that Orochimaru had been using a while back... he liked to experiment with his poisons. But they were unique to Orochimaru, and Danzo and his ANBU caught him out. And then he was ousted from Konoha, chased out. He should have been executed, but…"

From what Jiraiya-sensei had told him of his teammate, Orochimaru was as slippery as the summons he had in his contract. "And the children?"

"They found the most of the bodies later in other hidden labs- no-one knew what Orochimaru had been looking for in his experiments. Danzo was made Hokage, to bring stability back to the village."

"Were there competitors for the title?" On that, Minato was truly curious.

"It was… a quick exchange of power," said Rin, very carefully. "But after all that happened… the village is stronger for it."

Danzo had had an army and Konoha had been in absolute chaos, Minato summarised. He let out a breath he'd been unaware that he'd been holding. "And Orochimaru returned during the Chunin exams. Why?"

"We don't know exactly what he came back for." Rin pursed her lips. "But he'd allied with Sand- aside from a few appearances over the years that he left, we don't know much of what he'd been doing, nor when Suna had contacted him. And after the Chunin exams, he escaped again, Konoha was in disrepair, and it was almost solely down to him and _that boy_." Gaara had waltzed back into her mind, Minato knew it. "My team won't become our team. They deserve better than that."

_A lot of people deserve better than that_ , Minato thought. It was the system within which they lived, where the Hokage sent out shinobi to do their bidding, and it was sad, but it was for the good of the village, for stability. It was necessary, at least with the world how it was.

_We'll stop it eventually, Minato,_ Jiraiya-sensei had once said, as his own Genin team were grouped around a dying fire, just like this one, Minato the last of the young Genin to fall to sleep. _It was prophesised, you know._

He didn't really know what to think of prophecies, and it wasn't the time to dwell on such things. There was a job to be done. From Team Seven's trepidation, it was clear they'd need all of their strength, and he'd kept his old student up for long enough. Pulling one of the sealing theory books he'd brought along, (what the Godaime didn't know really wouldn't hurt him, and the theory in the book was general enough that an enemy of Konoha would likely have the information already), he glanced at his old pupil. There were shadows beneath her tired eyes.

She looked at him. "I am sorry, Minato-s… sensei," she said finally. "I know… that not everything is in our control. I'm a Jounin now. But this has been a shock. To all of us. It's been hard. I know you're not to blame. I know that. I've been childish. My anger towards you hasn't been justified."

A part of him relaxed at that. Rin was still Rin, sweet under that toughened exterior. "I understand," he said gently. "There's no need for an apology."

She was older than him now, but he supposed that a sensei would always see their children as children.

"Don't worry yourself about this," Minato said. "Get some sleep, Rin."

 

**† † †**

 

Minato sat on a perch, legs crossed, at the mouth of the valley. The land stretched out beneath him, a solid mile of black-grey rock which eventually softened into a sandy yellow, sand particles moving in an almost restless way in the near non-existent breeze. The sun was high in the sky now, to his left shoulder. Minato waited, eyes trained on the horizon. The range on the proximity seals was large. They triggered before he saw them. It wasn't too long before a speck showed on the horizon, a small mass of figures, followed by a bigger vehicle, ploughing steadily on, undeterred by the waves of heat the desert and sun were throwing up.

Minato flickered. Rin eyed him as he pulled his kunai from where it had been stuck in the rock-face. He eased it back into his pouch, nodding to Rin as he did so.

""Shino, Kiba, Sakura!"

The three Chunin assembled. "They're almost here. You know the plan. Stick to it. Kiba," she addressed the boy directly. "Under no circumstances are you to interfere with Minato-san's actions against Gaara, not unless he attacks you directly. Am I understood?"

"Yeah, yeah, Sensei. I know. I owe the girl one anyway, isn't that right, Akamaru?" Akamaru barked in agreement, wagging his stump of a tail. Kiba patted the dog on the head, a dark look crossing his face.

"She cut Akamaru's tail off the last time they fought," Shino said, noticing Minato's raised brow.

Kiba threw his teammate a dirty look. "She got _lucky_."

"Of course she did."

"Why you-"

Rin cleared her throat, interrupting the argument before it erupted. "Scatter."

Her students left in a small swirl of leaves. They easily blew away in the breeze at their backs. Rin's eyes flitted to his, before they roved over his shoulder to the direction the Suna-nin would soon be coming in.

"Don't die, Minato-sensei."

There was no hesitation over the honorific this time. Rin nodded at him. Minato blinked.

"Watch his sand. We'll wait for you to engage."

Rin jogged out of the valley, and Minato took his place. He was sat higher up, in a small alcove with a protruding ledge, sheltered from each side by parts of the valley jutting out around him. He stayed standing, stretching out his limbs while he waited for the caravan to pass. There was already a faint rumble in the distance, a large weight crushing smaller pebbles in its path to dust as it rolled onwards.

They were at the mouth of the pass, now, all Minato had to do was wait. Wait, and keep an eye out for Gaara. He'd seen the boy in the video Rin had shown him. Red-brown hair, dark ringed eyes, and a tattoo carved into his forehead. As people went, he was quite distinctive in appearance.

It didn't take long for them to come into view.

A large vehicle. Some of the traders on foot, marching ahead and around it, while others clung to handles attached to the side, or sat on ridges, their legs kicking. Some of them were carrying white umbrellas to ward off the burn of the heat, though the tactic seemed more favoured by the women of the group than the men.

And there they were. The traders were milling about, chatty and restless and slightly worn, and from a day-long travel in the desert, Minato didn't blame them. They wore light colours. The shinobi of the group were easily, easily distinguishable.

Ahead of the caravans, the tallest was wreathed in a black suit of some kind, his face covered in some sort of paint. How he hadn't suffered from sunstroke on the walk across the desert was something Minato put down to Suna durability. From the bundle strapped to his back, this must have been the puppet-master Team Seven had informed him of. Kankuro.

Ahead of the tallest was another shinobi, a white veil coving the side of his face that was to Minato. That one was talking to a trader at the front of the group. Baki.

Behind the vehicles was the sole female of the group. She was dressed in black, her straw-coloured hair pulled back into an unusual style of four tails, and a weapon of some kind was strapped to her back. All Minato could distinguish was the metal casing, so this must have been the fan user. She held a white umbrella above her head, and her face seemed set in an expression of utter boredom. Temari.

And finally, Minato's eyes drifted back ahead of the girl to his target. Gaara. Red hair stark against the dull landscape. Red, the colour of drying blood. His eyes were empty of feeling and framed heavily by black circles. His skin was pale, abnormally so for someone who lived in Wind country's burning climates. Minato could almost feel the boy's gaze raking over his skin as he surveyed the area, back straight and arms crossed, a gourd on his back. His lips were moving, not enough for Minato to discern syllables, but he seemed to be repeating some sort of mantra. Sand particles were ghosting through the air and mindful over the boy's jutsu, Minato pushed further back into the crevice of the rock he currently occupied. The grit in the wind was no different to that of the night before, but being cautious was safer than failing the mission through recklessness.

His target was the most difficult to get at from his place atop the caravan. Minato had littered the area the caravan was moving over with seals, but his target was out of reach of all of them. Speed was essential when dealing with this boy, and from his place atop the vehicle, he wouldn't be passing closely to any seal.

Minato crouched lower as another gust of air blew through the valley, the caravan finally drawing level with his position, and then onwards. But onwards they went, the traders chattering mindlessly, the shinobi bar the one at the lead following in silence. As the vehicle began crossing the threshold of the ravine, he supposed he was being too paranoid. They remained unaware of Team Seven or Minato's presence.

They had almost crossed completely over the mouth of the valley, when the ground gave way, Kiba's trap triggered by the weight of the caravan. Even Gaara lurched, face a picture of thunder as he lowered his leg to the roof again, glaring at the traders as they scuttled along below him, assessing the damage. The other three shinobi of the trio were immediately on alert, their frames tensing as they spun, senses stretching out for something that wasn't supposed to be there.

"Looks to be a natural break in the rock," one of traders suddenly called, "the caravan must have been too heavy."

"Pull it out, then!" Kankuro snapped out, his eyes tearing from the surroundings as he stalked back to where the traders had congregated. They baulked. "Hurry it up!"

And the traders tried. For nearly twenty minutes they tried to heft the vehicle out from the pothole, but Kiba's trap only widened. The caravan was stuck fast. Minato moved not a muscle, silently urging his target down from his perch. To no avail.

Finally, frustrated and sweaty, one of the traders- from Ame, judging by his dress, shouted up at Gaara.

"You! Yes, you, shinobi!"

Minato's target, who had been gazing dazedly at the sky while he rocked forwards and backwards on the balls of his feet, blinked, as if coming out of a reverie and turned his attention to the man calling up to him. He cocked his head to the side, a smirk curling his lips upwards as he stared at the little man standing at his feet. The gourd on his back seemed to almost shudder, as if there was something moving inside it.

"Yes, you, you brat!"

The man's self-preservation skills were clearly lacking.

"We hired shinobi for help, now help us!"

Eyes drifting from the irritated man, Minato noted the look of unease on the face of the female and puppet-user. The Ame trader hadn't. Minato noticed the two take a subtle step back. The Ame trader didn't.

The lips of the ninja atop the vehicle curled up a further few inches. "You... want me to... help you?" The words made their way to Minato's ears despite the way the wind was now howling. "I could do that... I could, if you do something for me first."

The grin being aimed down at the trader was making Minato uneasy. _What is he doing?_

"Yes, yes, what is it that you want?"

"It's not what... _I_ want... mother. Mother wants... do you want to gift my mother?" The smile had slowly widened to the point that Gaara's face was in danger of splitting apart, but his eyes stayed locked to the man he was addressing. The intensity of the gaze seemed to still the air around them.

For all his obliviousness to the danger he was facing- _could he really be so clueless? -_ the trader rolled his eyes, forgoing notice of the Suna citizens backing away.

" _Figured_ you'd be a mother's boy. _Shinobi_ these days. _Well?_ What is it your mother wants? A trinket of some sort? The sooner we're back on the road, the better!"

The smile was back and Gaara snickered. "Mother." He was laughing now. "Mother has no use for... _trinkets._ But..." he straightened up. "She's pleased with your willingness."

The trader had no time to query _that_ statement before the gourd on the boy's back lurched, sand rushing forward to engulf him from head to toe. It had surged down his throat before he could even scream, coming together to leave nought but a bloody mulch saturating the rocks where he'd once stood.

The wind started again as Gaara laughed. And laughed. And laughed. The faces of the two black-clad ninja were drawn, lips in firm lines as they surveyed their teammate. Their trader companions stood forgotten behind them, huddled back and quivering.

Gaara stopped laughing. The mirth on his face was quickly replaced with a more ugly expression as his hand went up to his head.

"Not satisfied, not satisfied, never satisfied... _mother_..."

One of the traders whimpered and Gaara's gaze shot to the group.

Before a repeat of moments before could take place, the girl cleared her throat. Minato noticed that she hadn't made to move forward, no, her hand was loose by her side, within easy reach of her weapon.

"Gaara. Don't you think that's enough? We need to get to Ame."

She backed up a step as the boy sent her a murderous glare. His hand reached up to press down on his eyelids before coming away, and he blinked rapidly. He sneered. "Mother doesn't want your blood... yet."

The spattered sand reformed into a gourd, attaching back on the boy's back.

"Get to Ame... Get. To. Ame. We're... stuck."

_Jump down,_ Minato silently urged. _Come on. Jump down._

Gaara stepped off of the top of the caravan and glared at the hole. His sand rushed out of shape yet again, slithering under the trapped vehicle, and with a loud _creak_ the caravan began to rise from the fissure.

_Wait until the sand is as far from reach as it can be..._

More sand rushed under the trapped mass. It was time. He edged out of the alcove. The wind blew again, more sand particles brushing against his face. Minato blinked, narrowing his eyes to avoid the more intrusive of the drit.

The caravan dropped with a sudden _crash_.

The wind died down.

Gaara turned from his place on the floor of the valley, looking right up at him.

_...And there goes the element of surprise._

The boy's face split into a grin.

"I _see_ you."

 

**† † †**

 

The sand granules in the air were clawing at his face now- _were they always his?-_ and Minato flickered-

To the tag by Gaara's feet- the traders were stumbling out of the valley and Minato noted the two black-wreathed shinobi closing in fast- hand raised, kunai plunging down-

_Snick._

He was gone again, on a ledge above the canyon, the vibration of the shattered kunai still ringing through his wrist.

Gaara was facing him again, his laugh reverberating off the walls. The sand swirled around him, a violent hiss of fine glass.

_Of course. The sand armour._

The boy reacted faster than he thought he would have. He hadn't expected the boy's armour to put up so much resistance, either. Not a single person had defended against his Jutsu in such a way... attacking him the way he'd become so reliant on was now out of the question. This could be... problematic.

The sand surged forward.

"Katon: Great Fireball Jutsu!"

Heat crystallised sand, smoke billowing out and Minato was gone before a claw pushed its way through the dissipating fireball, launching kunai at the boy.

A gust of strong wind would have knocked him off of his new perch if chakra hadn't had him stuck firmly. As it was, it just tore the already scabbed grazes on his face a little more, and Minato felt the blood begin to trickle down his face.

_The wind user-_ she was pulling her arm back again, ready to release another devastating attack, but she was knocked off balance by a white blur.

_Akamaru. Kiba._

Blue eyes flicked behind the girl's battle to see the puppet mobilised by her brother collapse as if its strings were cut. With the way Shino had stepped out from behind a rock, they probably had been. Behind them, Rin lunged at the ninja dressed in white while the escaping traders were dropping one by one courtesy of Sakura.

Minato flickered from place yet again, avoiding another grab of sand. Gaara had yet to move from his spot.

_That sand... Well, Rin did say that Taijutsu had been his weak spot..._

Gaara had the caravan to his back as his arm swept yet again, and sand pulsed forward. There was still the tag buried by his feet...

Minato flickered, this time infusing kunai with wind-chakra so the cut would be sharper. Gaara batted it away, and Minato was gone again.

Again.

Again.

_Getting close to him isn't the problem. It's actually hitting him._ His brow creased as he moved yet again, throwing a volley of kunai at the boy and flickering between them. To his growing frustration, he was rebuffed a fourth time.

_Damnit._

Never had he faced a defence quite like this. It wasn't that he boy was extraordinarily talented, though he was; his madness kept Minato from predicting exactly what he would do next, and he did his best to keep the shinobi's attention on him and not the rest of Team Rin. It was the sand; it pulsed and twisted, defending him from every conceivable angle, despite the boy being close enough to a tag that he was almost standing on top of it.

That defence. It was not one made for a human to break.

_Shit._

Using his siblings against him would be out of the question. Gaara's attention had not once been drawn to them, despite their varying degrees of struggle against the Leaf shinobi at their backs. While that could have been due to him trusting in their abilities, Minato didn't think it was nearly as simple as that. From what he'd seen of the two of them, they were scared of him. He'd threatened them himself.

And catching him off guard... well, Minato had seen how that'd turned out. It was no longer an option.

Minato drew back from another violent arc of his opponent's arm. It was a sloppy movement, Minato noticed.

_His sand follows his movements, mostly. I knew that already. I can't tag it. That would be useless. I have to draw it away and get through whatever's left with a bigger burst of wind-chakra. That, or I'll use it against him._

Gaara may not have been very predictable... but his sand was another entity entirely.

_All right then... to separate him from his sand._

The first step would be to remove the boy from his original position. Minato needed to be able to attack from all sides- the caravan at Gaara's back was restricting him from being able to attack from any angle.

His fingers came together in a crossed seal. A Shadow Clone. Three normal Clones. They split off. They rushed forward. They pulled out kunai and launched the volley at the boy from all sides available. Of course, the illusionary kunai produced by the plain clones were no danger, and were dissipated by the violent arcs of sand, easily. Minato flickered between the remaining physical kunai that were batted away as the sand rushed outwards, and then to the seal still buried by the boy's feet. He heard the sand rush at him from behind, and flickered away once again, moving to pick up some of his deposited instruments.

_It was slower that time. Though not enough._

Well that was _fine_.

He would draw it out yet again. His only Shadow Clone had survived the sand as it doubled back for the original, and was standing by. He drew up a further 2 simple clones, and deployed the same tactic.

Kunai fanned out and honed in on Gaara, who easily caught them in a sandy net. This time, however, instead of buffing them back, the kunai were completely swallowed in the mass of earth. Gaara caught his eye and smirked as he used his sand to grind them to dust.

"I'm tired of your Jutsu now."

He was learning.

And he was getting bored, if Sakura's shriek was anything to go by. The floor was beginning to shake, Minato could feel it through his sandals, and Gaara's unhinged smile promised nothing good. This was the boy who'd caused so much damage to Konoha. That Rin believed was so harmful to her team. She may have been right. Minato's time was running out. Gaara had to be dealt with. Now.

"What are you waiting for, sensei?" Rin roared from further down the valley, where her fight had taken them. She was knocked off balance, narrowly avoiding a wind Jutsu sent her way.

_I've drawn this out too long._

_And now they're in danger._

_I will not lose anyone else-_

"Mother's looking forward to tasting _your_ blood. For how long can you dance?" Gaara laughed, and the ground beneath Minato's feet shook as sand burst upwards. He jumped back. Sand exploded from the rocks at his back, dislodging a tree and sending birds squawking into the air. A tendril caught his ankle, slamming him down, grinding his foot into a paste of blood and flesh and bone-

The Shadow Clone dispersed.

From behind Gaara- "Katon: Flame Bullet!"

His sand caught the brunt of the forward motion of the caravan as it was blasted out from its place, before it was forcefully flung away. Gaara still staggered, rage colouring his features, his legs buckling from the sudden force he had not been expecting, so sure that he had won.

His troubles were only beginning, an uppercut knocking him back as his sand tended to the weight of the vehicle, followed swiftly by a Rasengan that would end it, sand-armour be damned-

There was a screech as a bird flew between them, swallowing up Minato's Jutsu.

And then-

-the bird exploded.

**† † †**

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to all those taking the time to review. It means a lot to hear from you : )


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